Metamorphosis
by perpetually
Summary: "She falls into hypnosis. He falls into heaven." Two worlds clash like the collision of dark nebulae in the galaxy. Starry kisses, dark matter, problem to the heart.
1. Prologue

**Note: **I love reading stories with the 'story width' set to 1/2 and the 'story contrast' set to a black background and white text. It feels more magical and authentic. Welcome to this new story. I hope you enjoy the ride, lovely people.

P.S I highly recommend listening to the theme music because it sets a tone of voice and might also help paint a mood for the story, its characters and the readers.

**Readers: **Viewer discretion is advised. Though it may be a slow burn at first, this story is rated M. It can deal with the harshness of reality and the unfairness of life, as well as other themes, please read with care. (Short bursts of chapters)

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Twilight._ It is owned by Stephenie Meyer, and not part of my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought. This is for entertainment purposes only. This is a fictional story about fictional representations of real people.

* * *

**Theme: **_The xx - Angels (OdyC Remix)_

* * *

**Metamorphosis**

**Prologue**

She sees him before he sees her. This time, they do not engage into an electric stare. Her lashes flutter. Up down, blink and blink. She assesses his copper hair, like the color of coiled up, copper wire from the hardware store. Not that she's been there. Not that she knows how to do anything along the likes of that. Her hands know no calluses. And her experiences run dry from such strenuous labor. She's privilege, elegance and style. Wealth, opportunities and remarkable sophistication.

His head is down. His arms are covered with marks of oil, dirt and grit. With a frown furrowed through his brows, the muscles on his arms contract and contort with fever. She can see him cleaning the engine of his car. He is not of privilege or money, nor is he of wealth, opportunities and remarkable sophistication. He is just him. A boy- a man- who strives to do what he can with the reminder of perpetual limitations bracing him down. That is what her grandmother has implied. Anchoring him to the life he knows as his own.

She watches him from the window in the room. This time in broad daylight. He does not notice her. That is what she thinks. Hair rolling down in waves of carelessness and liberty, she doesn't have to pretend here. And so she watches, with freedom and amazement, at the boy from the opposite house. She knows it to be temporary. She knows it won't last. But she hopes, and her hope is strong. Stronger than the largest tidal wave the nation as seen and stronger than the rope attached to a man diving into an abyss of the unknown.

It is the start of her first whole day here. From the many times of the past. Her grandmother's house, a haven of some sort. A place where she wishes to visit more often. It is also his first day here, moving into the neighborhood. A neighborhood of no decadence or fame. Only humility and diffidence. She likes it here, even better that he is here.

* * *

**It has begun.**

**Love, perpetually.**


	2. Start

**Metamorphosis**

* * *

_Life isn't about getting and having, it's about giving and being. _

_- Kevin Kruse_

* * *

**1. Start  
**

The sun rises with the familiar burning sensation she knows as her eyes open in recognition of the new day. She is of curiosity and innocence, but also wisdom and complexity. She is Isabella of the Swans and daughter of the fortunate. The rich, burgundy curtains move with the draft of wind that floats through the window. She doesn't remember opening her windows at any point in the evening yesterday. But a voice answers her perplexity.

"You're up, ma chérie."

A woman with white-colored hair walks into the room, an apron strapped across her hips as a smile dons her face, etched with happiness and affection. Camille stares at the girl still blinking from sleepiness, who is rested on soft, quilted clouds and an abundance of silky pillows. She has known Isabella since she was a baby. A six pound infant in the nursery of a mansion, owned by two capable parents.

"Good morning, Camille," Isabella says. Jaws open and captured mid-yawn, Isabella receives a laugh from the maid.

"Oh my sweet, Isabella. Come on, breakfast is ready. Your dear mother will be expecting you soon."

Isabella rolls out of bed, her two feet mindlessly searching for the slippers under her bed. Toes wriggling to come into contact with the fuzziness of warmth that they shall offer her. Camille smiles at the young girl. She isn't so young anymore, but she will always be young in her eyes. An eighteen year old who is ready to take the world onto her shoulders and battle for what she thinks is right. That is what Camille observes from the girl she has watched grow up into a young lady. A girl who knows compassion and not of prejudice or ignorance. And so she is proud to have watched this child transform, and she is proud to see her unique qualities in a world that is tainted with greed.

"Oh my mother can wait. I mean, I waited for her to come to my eighteenth dinner. Two hours. Five minutes isn't too long for her, right?" Isabella states, with a huff.

"She is your mother, honey. She wants what is best for you, even though sometimes I don't agree with her. But who am I?"

"You're my biggest mentor, don't say things like that."

Isabella's words lift up the edges of Camille's lips. It delivers reassurance and gratitude and that is all that she will ever ask for, from the girl who she sees as her only daughter.

"Since when did you learn to sugar-coat all your compliments? Come here child, I'll need to do your hair before you go downstairs."

Isabella grins as she plops down side-ways on the leather recliner. A brush, clips and ten minutes later, Isabella is striding down the cold, marble staircase with Camille by her side.

"I'll go get your food, your mother wants to talk to you before you leave."

Isabella tilts her head to the side as she peeks into the living room where her mother sits with a newspaper between her hands. It makes her raise her brows seeing her mother with a newspaper. The ink had always irritated her greatly, especially when it would smudge onto her fingertips. Instead, the glossy pages of a magazine were favored immensely.

"Interesting."

Isabella walks into the room and watches her mother as she raises her eyes from the reading glasses perched on her nose. Warmly smiling at her daughter, Renee points to the luggage in the corner of the room. Situated next to the fireplace, three bags and a handbag stare back at Isabella.

"We figured we'd send you off to your grandmother's earlier this summer. Your father and I are going overseas tomorrow, so it'd be best if you went to Forks a week earlier."

If it weren't for the fact that Isabella enjoyed the entire duration of visiting her grandmother, she may have fumed with utter annoyance and infuriation at such decisions being made without her knowledge. Or consent.

"Where's dad?"

"Still asleep. Recovering from the business party last night, of course."

Isabella vaguely remembers the absence of her parents last night and the cacophony of noises they made upon their return in the early morning. She remembers being awoken by the echoes of their drunken laughter. It was normal.

"I see. Well have fun on your trip," Isabella says, slowly walking out of the room before her mother calls her back again.

"Are you forgetting something, dear?"

Turning around to see Renee's waiting face, Isabella retreats her footsteps and presses a kiss to her mother's cheek. She receives a smile in return, but it is always the smile of professionalism and class. Walking out of the room, Isabella reminds herself that she should not expect more. Perhaps she is asking for too much, Isabella debates with herself. Perhaps this is all that she will ever get.

"Maybe I am being too spoiled."

"Or maybe you are just being reasonable," a voice says from behind Isabella, effectively breaking her out of her questioning.

Camille places her hands on her shoulders. She knows she'll miss Isabella. But she also knows that Isabella being at her grandmother's will always deliver back a girl of radiance and bliss after the summer. And for that, she is grateful.

* * *

**Tell me your thoughts. **

******Love, perpetually.**  



	3. Here

**Metamorphosis**

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_Every strike brings me closer to the next home run. _

_– Babe Ruth_

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**2. Here  
**

She reaches for her sunglasses as she steps out of the airport. Daylight kisses her skin after a journey of hours on a plane. There was no turbulence, and it brings her comfort. She never liked plane rides, even when she had to go to Vienna for her aunt's wedding. Or when she had to visit Moscow to see her eminent cousin being granted entrance into a prestigious school for ballet.

Scrolling through the contact list on her phone, Isabella finds the number and dials it. Waiting and hoping that she hasn't woken her grandmother up too early.

"Marie Adelaide Higginbotham speaking," her grandmother's sleepy voice fills the earpiece.

"Grandma, it's me," she says, "I hope they informed you that I was even coming here a week earlier than usual."

"Isabella! I was filled with joy when Charles and Renee told me you had to come early. I just slept in a bit after some lawn bowling yesterday."

"You don't lawn bowl," Isabella says, hiding her giggle. She knows Marie well. Better than some of the people in her life who she _should_ know better.

"Oh you caught me. A total stereotype for old people like me. Though I have been doing some tap dancing," Marie's peals of laughter are heard through the other side.

It is half an hour later with a ride in a taxi where the driver would not stop eyeing Isabella that she arrives in front of a modest, two-storey house with branches and twigs spiraling across the wooden walls.

"Have I seen you from somewhere before?"

The man in the driver's seat turns around to ask Isabella.

"Most likely not," she smiles sweetly before clambering out of her seat and reaching for a twenty in her purse.

She doesn't think of herself as famous, she doesn't think of prestige and value. It is her parents. They are the faces of charities and endorsement. They are the faces of large business deals and companies. They are the epitome of success at its finest, with the world beneath their feet. A position shared by the elite. The peak of a triangle would demonstrate that with graphical accuracy.

But she is not Renee, nor Charlie. She is a Higginbotham but also a Swan. But more importantly, she is Isabella. She is different. And she knows it. It is a difference that she embraces and a difference that she yearns to see in her parents someday. But that someday will not be soon. Yet she hopes.

The driver takes out all her luggage and bids her farewell. His yellow taxi drives on, with smoke puffing from the exhaust pipe. She turns to face the house of warmth and baked cookies. The house of summer memories. The sanctuary for honesty and acceptance. Eradicated from the pretentious nature of people that have surrounded Isabella for her whole life.

She inhales the fresh air of newly mowed grass and relaxation. She feels relief pooling in her veins as she walks up to her grandmother's porch. She knocks twice and waits, turning around to look at the serenity of the street. Turning to gaze at the house opposite. A moving truck is parked in front of it, partially blocking her view of the blue house she always loved to spy on when she was younger. When she was younger and more naive in the weeks and months that she would spend with Grandma Marie. She remembered cracked walls and a leaky pipe on the roof of the blue house. She remembered a dirty swing chair on the veranda. It would groan with pressure. It would drive Isabella mad sometimes.

She wonders if the couple, Mark and Agnes, still lived there. She wonders if they ever saved enough to buy the new truck they had always kept an eye on. She wonders if their daughter still wears pigtails in her school photos. She wonders about many things but they are cut short when the sound of the front door opening captures Isabella's attention.

She sees home. She sees a summer ahead of her.

* * *

**I hope you are all well.  
**

******Love, perpetually.**  



	4. Sight

**Metamorphosis**

* * *

_I am not a product of my circumstances. I am a product of my decisions. _

_– Stephen Covey_

* * *

**3. Sight  
**

"I cleaned up your room for you. Once a year is far too less to visit granny," Marie says after hugging the living daylights out of Isabella.

"You know I'd visit more if I could."

"I know I know, even my own daughter disapproves of where I live."

Isabella knows of her mother's humble roots. A shaky background and an unhappy household. Marie would always tell Isabella that Renee was not always like who she is today. Isabella sees the outpour of affection in her grandmother's eyes when she talks about her daughter, but she always sees a loss. A loss of faith. A disappointment of some sort.

Renee never did like Isabella spending too much time in a neighborhood of roughness. A neighborhood that fell outside the criteria of Renee's expectations for wealth and honor. Sometimes, Isabella wonders if Renee could recall her own childhood. Before she achieved success and money. Before she married into the Swan family and found love in Charles. Before she came to a truce with her mother-in-law. Before her mother-in-law could accept the bride of Charles Swan to have come from a blue-collared family. A family of no status or value. Isabella wonders if Renee could remember all of that. Before she conformed to the expectations of her society. The expectations of herself.

"Why don't you move? You know we have enough money now." Renee had asked her mother, shaking with annoyance at Marie's stubbornness. Renee had always told Isabella that stubbornness had skipped a generation, excluding her but going from Marie straight to Isabella.

"I want to live here. Forks. I know people here, I have a life here. If I move to where you live, I won't fit in, Renee." Marie had stated angrily to her daughter.

"I'm not asking you to live with us," Renee had said with an air of surprise and arrogance.

"You used to live here too. You used to find safety and happiness here."

Renee had left the room quickly after the words of Marie brought a frown to her face. Isabella remembers the conversation clearly, even when she was a young child still holding her teddy bear. Even when she was still in elementary school and had heard the raised voices of her grandmother and mother.

"Well, I'm not here to turn you against your own mother. Maybe at some point, I can show you the new goldfish I got." Marie says, clapping her hands. A cheery smile is plastered on her face again but Isabella could see the streak of sadness behind her grey eyes.

Walking up the narrow staircase which granted a creak for every footstep, Isabella finds herself surrounded in familiarity and comfort. She walks to the room at the end of the corridor. Her bedroom. Sits down. And breathes.

"You must be tired, dear. I'll let you sleep, tell me if you need anything," her grandmother kisses her on the forehead as Isabella notices the red digits of the alarm clock indicating it to be afternoon. Taking the shawl that hangs on the edge of the armchair, Isabella lays it on top of her as she descends into a sleep.

She is woken up by the eerie need to look out the window of her room. She is unsure if it is the aftermath of a bad dream that she had or if she feels like someone is watching her. She pauses for a moment, as a laugh downstairs affirms her of her grandmother's presence in the house. Isabella peeks outside. Lifting a hand to the curtain, she surveys the houses. The quietness of the street. She notices the disappearance of the moving truck and the full view of the little blue house opposite hers.

And that is when she sees.

Him.

* * *

**Feelings?**

******Love, perpetually.**  



	5. Neighbor

**Metamorphosis**

* * *

_You can never cross the ocean until you have the courage to lose sight of the shore. _

_– Christopher Columbus_

* * *

**4. Neighbor  
**

They hold each other's gazes. Both do not want to break the eye contact. One from a window, framed with the swinging branches of the oak tree beneath. And the other, holding a cardboard box that is filled with furniture from the previous house, now headed for its new home. He cannot see her properly, but he can see- and feel- the heat of her stare. Telling him she is real. But she can see him clearly. For he is illuminated by the dim light of dusk, and the flickering of street lights that line the concrete grounds.

It takes her a moment before she realizes what she is doing and jumps back from the window. She is shamelessly staring at a stranger from the opposite house. She is unsure who saw who first. She just remembers an instant connection of an intense stare. Rubbing her hands on her face, she feels a sense of embarrassment. But she also feels a rush of excitement and anticipation.

"So, Mark and Agnes don't live here anymore?" Isabella asks Marie, as she gathers a spoonful of mashed potatoes onto her plate, later that evening.

"No, they moved away a month ago. I'm not too sure why. I would have helped them if they were having financial difficulties."

Isabella nods. She knows her grandmother to be a kind person. However, she is wanting to find out more. More about the man she saw.

"So," Isabella starts, briefly pausing, before speaking again, "who is the new neighbor?"

"Edward you mean? I've talked to the boy a few times before he moved here today. Such a shy man, and quite handsome too." Marie says, giggling slightly at the end. "Says he is moving in with his mother. Haven't seen her though."

Edward. She thinks. She says it to herself internally. Smiling a bit.

"He is such a bright young man. Even though I only spoke to him for a while, he was indeed very charming. But you could see the worry and stress behind his eyes. Like he was anxious about something."

Isabella did not see nervousness when she saw him. She saw mystery. And she was intrigued.

"He's not like you, dear. You can see the hard labor etched in his hands and skin. Yet he is so grateful and polite."

Isabella feels no need to interrupt Marie's eager rundown on Edward. She feels more interested than ever. This mystical soul. The man who could compel her grandmother to spill out a heartfelt speech about him.

That night she sleeps with restlessness. She longs to reach the curtain and peek outside. Not that she would be able to see through the darkness that is between them. Even if there are street lights that offer some assistance. She tosses and turns, thinking about it all. And slowly she forgets the world of luxury and wealth that she comes from. Instead, she is immersed in this new feeling. This new feeling of excitement. Pure anticipation.

* * *

**Thanks for reading. Penny for your thoughts?**

**Love, perpetually.**


	6. First

**Metamorphosis**

* * *

_I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel. _

_– Maya Angelou_

* * *

**5. First  
**

She sees him before he sees her. This time, they do not engage into an electric stare. Her lashes flutter. Up down, blink and blink. She assesses his copper hair, like the color of coiled up, copper wire from the hardware store. Not that she's been there. Not that she knows how to do anything along the likes of that. Her hands know no calluses. And her experiences run dry from such strenuous labor. She's privilege, elegance and style. Wealth, opportunities and remarkable sophistication.

His head is down. His arms are covered with marks of oil, dirt and grit. With a frown furrowed through his brows, the muscles on his arms contract and contort with fever. She can see him cleaning the engine of his car. He is not of privilege or money, nor is he of wealth, opportunities and remarkable sophistication. He is just him. A boy- a man- who strives to do what he can with the reminder of perpetual limitations bracing him down. That is what her grandmother has insinuated. Anchoring him to the life he knows as his own.

She watches him from the window in the room. This time in broad daylight. He does not notice her. That is what she thinks. Hair rolling down in waves of carelessness and liberty, she doesn't have to pretend here. And so she watches, with freedom and amazement, at the boy from the opposite house. She knows it to be temporary. She knows it won't last. But she hopes, and her hope is strong. Stronger than the largest tidal wave the nation as seen and stronger than the rope attached to a man diving into an abyss of the unknown.

It is the start of her first whole day here. From the many times of the past. Her grandmother's house, a haven of some sort. A place where she wishes to visit more often. It is also his first day here, moving into the neighborhood. A neighborhood of no decadence or fame. Only humility and diffidence. She likes it here, even better that he is here.

She retreats from the window, sensibly this time. No frightened, backward jumps. No panicked racing of the heart. She wanders downstairs to make her own breakfast. A rarity that should be photographed every time it happens at her own home. She is seen as fragile and precious. But she is also seen as weak and sheltered. She yearns to break away from all that. And she can do it here, in the home of her grandmother. For the summer calls to Bella's head to her toes.

"I've taken out the orange juice. I know you always like to make your own breakfast, so here's the toaster. Isabella, you remember where everything is, right?" her grandmother's voice floats in the kitchen upon her arrival.

Isabella grins at Marie as she nods. "Of course I do. But I feel like some cereal today."

"Cereal?" Marie asks, shocked. She notices a subtle change in Isabella. She looks more awake. More relaxed. Calmer. And more excited. So she agrees with an enthusiastic nod, taking out the cardboard box with a bag of Isabella's favorite.

Moments later, after chatting to Marie about her tap dancing classes for this evening, Isabella wanders to the backyard where she sits on the swing set that she once loved as a child. The swing set that she will always love. Flipping open _Pride and Prejudice_, Isabella rereads her beloved romantic tale.

Pausing every now and then, she looks up at the sky and she ponders about her own life. Her own love life. She never really dated in high school, even when she went to the most prestigious school in town, she never fancied anyone. Of course she had many friends, males and females. Males who would casually sling their arms over the back of her chair before she'd shift awkwardly away to the side. And females who were more interested in her reputation and status than who she really was. So it was fair to say that Isabella didn't feel complete at school, even though she tried hard and studied every night, she was an incomplete soul. But that isn't to say she didn't have at least one or two good friends. Angela Weber was her name.

She came from a family, of old money and class. But Isabella found similarity and resemblance within Angela to herself. Angela loved to read as well. She loved the occasional Frozen Margarita and Bloody Maria. But she was also a modest soul. She kept to herself and bought a few items here and there. Jessica Stanley was the opposite. She loved to wear her uniform with the first three buttons of her top undone, pushing up her breasts as far as they would go. Most likely wishing to great the best contouring of her chest. Loving the attention and constant ogling from the males in the class.

The Stanleys were well-acquainted with the Webers and so naturally, Jessica would talk to Angela and sometimes the occasional glance would be directed to Isabella. But Isabella would be unfazed, for she never stood in Jessica's way and there was a mutual understanding between the two. Almost as if neither one would go within ten feet from each other. As if they were both the same ends of a magnet. Repelled by each other.

She looks back down to her book and notices a splotch of rain gently wetting the ink on her book.

_It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife_.

She hums to herself as she thinks of all the rich, young boys at school. She's glad that she's graduated for otherwise she'll have to deal with more drama at school. All the young socialites and heirs to great fortunes assembled together. Like they could rule the world. And perhaps they could. But Isabella had no interest. Instead, she prefers to sit under the large oak trees that serve as a perimeter around her grandmother's house. Sitting peacefully on a swing. One that she hopes she won't break due to its lack of use, and perhaps also the fact that she no longer lived in the body of a ten-year old Isabella Swan.

Isabella walks back inside the house as the gradual splattering of raindrops echoes after her moving figure. The pitter-patter of falling droplets shatters onto the ground and next to her feet as she tucks the book under the crook of her arm and ducks back into the safety of a roof. But what she sees next makes her jaw touch the ground.

"Oh Isabella, there you are. This is Edward. I'm glad you two can finally meet."

Her grandmother sits there with a tea set right in front of her on the glass table. And slowly but steadily, Isabella raises her eyes to meet the piercing green ones of the man she knows to be as Edward. He smiles gingerly at her. And she can't help but smile right back.

* * *

**May everyone have a spiffing day.**

**Love, perpetually.**


	7. Meet

**Metamorphosis**

* * *

_Everything has beauty, but not everyone can see. _

_– Confucius_

* * *

**6. Meet  
**

"Hello," she mumbles, "I'm Isabella."

Marie's mischievous eyes, unbeknownst to the two, sparkle with a sense of happiness. The elderly woman isn't all too sure over what she is really doing. But all she knows is that the two are in need of a friend. She can see the underlying connection between these two young birds.

"I'm Edward," his voice glides through the air, smoothly, "how do you do?"

Isabella tucks a hair behind her ear as she notices her grandmother artfully manoeuvring away into the next room, sliding the door shut after her. It is just her and him now. A part of her feels like asking Marie what she thinks she is doing by setting up two virtual strangers in a room. She knows how bad Isabella is with strangers. But another part of her feels a tingling sensation crawling up her spine at this close distance with the boy from the opposite house.

"I'm here at my grandmother's for the summer. My parents are away on business, so I guess I'm here earlier than usual." Isabella says meekly. Edward stares at the girl in front of him, she doesn't look a day older than himself, yet he can see maturity and wisdom through the windows of her brown, almond eyes. He is intrigued. Marvelously intrigued.

"Well, I'm new here. So I guess you could show me around the neighborhood, whenever you're free." Edward says.

"_Oh she's free, alright._" Marie's voice sounds from the next room, followed by her own signature chuckle, making Isabella blush.

"Does everyone call you Isabella?" Edward asks.

"For as long as I know," she replies, staring curiously at this man, "is there something wrong with Isabella?"

Edward's eyebrows rise up in surprise as his palms lift up in surrender. _"No_, not at all, I was simply curious."

He takes a deep breath and speaks again, "I was just wondering if I could call you _Bella_."

Isabella's lips part slightly. Half in shock and half in confusion. Nobody's ever asked her if they could give her a nickname before, certainly not the name _Bella_. But she likes it. Her parents would call her _Izzy _when she was younger but then she thought it sounded too childish and so that name was discarded. But _Bella _had a nice ring to it and so Isabella agreed.

"Sure," she whispers, "I like Bella."

"I like it too."

Later that afternoon, Bella finds herself walking side by side with Edward. Each holding a cone with two scoops of ice-cream on top. She has banana and chocolate. His is strawberry and caramel. They are an interesting pair to some, but to the two of them, they are new acquaintances.

"Do you like Forks?" Edward asks Bella.

"I do, it's a quaint, little town. I visit every summer for as long as I remember. Do you like it?"

"It's... refreshing," he says, watching his feet move on the pavement as they stride under the arching branches of the trees in the local park. The soft giggle of children's voices and parents talking surround them as they carry on walking.

"Where were you originally from?" she asks, eyeing him as strands of his bronze hair reflect the light from the sun. It is slightly hypnotizing.

"I'm from... a nearby town," he replies, quickly moving onto another topic, "so where are you from if you don't live with your grandmother?"

She wants to know more about him. But she knows better than to push, so she replies with, "I'm from New York."

Edward's steps falter slightly as his interest peaks. He asks, "the state or the city?"

"New York City," Bella says as she continues to lick the ice-cream that is slowly dripping down her hand, oblivious to the buzzing in Edward's head. He looks over the girl beside him. She wears denim shorts and a loose, baseball t-shirt. He is bewildered to say the least. His mother had always informed him of the recognizable qualities in New Yorkers. He couldn't pick up a single one from Bella. Perhaps he was wrong about it all. Perhaps they were all facile generalizations that human beings were known to make for things that resided outside their understanding.

"That's nice," he responds.

"It's interesting how it rains and then becomes sunny again. Forks is such a peculiar place. I'm not even sure whether I should wear shorts or jeans on days like this, but it always turns hot and humid anyway by afternoon." Bella finds herself rambling.

"Well, I wouldn't know. But thanks for informing me, weather forecast lady," he grins boyishly at her. She feels her heartbeat stuttering in her chest, taking a momentary pause as she stares at the man in front of her. She admires the way his green eyes twinkle under the rays of sunlight, surrounded by the array of thick, dark lashes.

"How old are you?" she asks, suspiciously, squinting at him. He chuckles at the slight crinkle of her nose as she peers up at him. He looms over her. An innate feeling of wanting to hold her close comes over him. But he instantly pushes away such a desire.

"I'm nineteen," he replies, "you?"

"Eighteen," she answers. She's not sure if she's surprised that he is a year older than her. She's not sure what age she pinpointed him to be, from the first moment she saw him up to the moment she properly met him. He looks like a child, yet like a man. His chiseled jaw and his lean stature indicates a sense of masculinity.

"So is it just you that's moved here?" Bella asks. She remembers her grandmother mentioning something about Edward and his mother but she decides not to let it be known that her grandmother has been gossiping about the new neighbor already.

"No," he says, "I'm here with my mom."

His eyes no longer hold the same casualness as before. She realizes Edward is closing off slightly at the personal question aimed at him. Bella wonders why. But her time is cut short when he decides that he's spent enough time with her for one day.

"Well, I'm going to head back now. I still need to fully unpack."

Bella stares at Edward, watching for a reaction. Waiting for a clue. Hoping for some sort of hint. But an unfathomable facade of neutrality has masked his face. She has no choice but to agree.

A single drop of her ice-cream onto the ground reminds her that she is now standing in the park, alone.

* * *

**Isabella is now Bella. First step to transformations and the journey of change, learning and love.**

**Hope all is well, beautiful people.  
**

**Love, perpetually.**


	8. Counter

**Metamorphosis**

* * *

_We must believe that we are gifted for something, and that this thing, at whatever cost, must be attained. _

_– Marie Curie_

* * *

**7. Counter  
**

"My baby girl, how is everything?" Bella's father asks through the phone.

"Everything's fine, daddy."

She's always found it easier to talk to her dad than her mom. She isn't sure why, perhaps it is the aloofness in her mother that causes her to turn away in conversations. It may also be the failure to constantly appease her mother's demands. Her expectations. The hard-to-please personality within Renee. A part of her is glad that it is Charlie who has called her.

"How are you and mom?"

"We're good, honey. Just going through some meetings in the Czech Republic. You know, Pravaoslav and Radovan. Soon we'll be meeting with Chen and his business partner, Wang. And then we've also got to speak to the Swedes as well, Axelsson and, what's his name... Bergfalk..." Charlie's voice drones on through the earpiece as Bella finds her attention floating back to the conversation with the mysterious, bronze-haired man.

She knows that her father loves her. She also knows that her mother loves her. But she can't stop feeling the dissatisfaction that bubbles within her chest. She isn't sure what it is or where it is coming from, but she knows that she has a lot of unanswered questions.

"It's getting late over there isn't it, sweetheart? I'm going to go now, goodnight Izzy."

Bella feels an immediate need to correct her father. She wants to say, "it's not Izzy, it's Bella now", but instead she says nothing of that sort. It is currently midnight in Forks, meaning it'd be nine o'clock in the morning at where Charlie and Renee are at, Prague.

"And don't let the bed bugs bite," they say together, a tradition from her childhood every time her father would tuck her into bed. She smiles at the memory. But it is only a memory. Slipping into the covers of her bed, Bella falls into an unconsciousness filled with her own conundrums of the green-eyed man.

_"Bella... let's dance," he says, laughing as he pulls her to her feet._

_"I've got two left feet, I can't dance."_

_"I'm a master, I'll show you how," he chuckles, making her smile. It's all he's ever wanted. To see her truly smile. Smile so luminously. So vibrantly. She feels his hands on her waist and his breath on her face. She smells the aroma of man, firewood and mechanics. But it smells like him. She feels a jolt of electricity running through her arteries as his fingers clasp her hip._

_"Bella..."_

"Isabella... wake up."

Bella's eyelids open as she feels bony hands latched onto her shoulders, shaking her awake into a new day of reality. Marie's grey eyes stare back at Bella's half-opened ones. Tired and still very much wanting to be asleep again.

"Grandma, it's Bella now."

"_Bella_? Well, it does have a nice ring to it."

"Edward thought of it..." Bella mumbles sleepily as her body curls forward in an act of going back to her dream again. Preferably returning to that discontinued scene.

"Smart guy. Anyway, I know it's seven in the morning right now and youngsters, like yourself, dislike waking up so early when it is not a normal weekday for school. But I figured you could come with me to the markets today."

Marie pats Bella on the head and leaves the room, whistling a tune. Earning a groan from the haystack-haired Bella in bed.

It takes her fifteen minutes to brush through her long, brown hair which consists of tangles and knots before Bella resembles her decent self in the mirror again. Brushing her teeth and chugging down some cereal with milk, she finds herself following her grandma to the supermarkets. She appreciates the scenery and the smell of morning dew on the grasses of the neighborhood. She never sees the beauty of nature in New York City. At least not as often as she'd like. It is still early morning and so the morning chill wraps around Bella's petite frame as she walks in linked arms with her grandmother, who seems to deal better in the cold than she does.

"Some apple pie does sound nice... I'll get some lovely green apples," Marie's voice grows more distant as she wanders to the fruit section.

The 'markets' in Forks had outdoor and indoor sections, offering customers an assortment of fresh fruits and vegetables. The supermarket was usually referred to as the indoor section, and also the sanctuary for shoppers in rainy weather.

Feeling the wind crawling against her back, Bella decides to walk through the sliding doors and wander around in the supermarket. The noise of scanners and trolleys fill Bella's ears as announcements are made through the speakers, along with the chatter of children begging their parents to buy them the packet of chips on the racks. Ironically, the responses from the parents are more comical and impatient.

She smiles to herself as the homely atmosphere embraces her, making her feel tranquil. There is no pushing. No rush. Only ease. That ease only lasts a few seconds before the voice of a man disrupts her reverie.

"Bella?"

Edward stands there. Behind the cash register.

* * *

**Love, perpetually.**


	9. Fun

**Metamorphosis**

* * *

_I didn't fail the test. I just found 100 ways to do it wrong. _

_– Benjamin Franklin_

* * *

**8. Fun**

She sees a hint of a smile lingering on his lips as he stares at her. He eyes her hoodie and her black jeans that wrap comfortably around her shapely thighs and calves. He can't stop trailing his eyes across her petite figure before he realizes she's caught him checking her out. He ducks his head down in embarrassment. Bella sees the soft, pink blush rise onto the apples of Edward's cheeks. She finds it amusing.

But she doesn't know that his blush is partially because she's caught him behind the register. That she's caught him with a name tag and uniform on at the local supermarket. She doesn't know that he feels a sense of inadequacy and bashfulness at her being here and seeing him like this. He might not know what Bella does, or who she is, but he knows that this is hardly impressive for a girl to see.

"You work here?" Bella finds herself asking.

"Yeah."

There is a pause. A silence in the air between them.

"Well, I'm here with my grandma so I'll see you around," Bella says.

She turns to leave, walking away and headed towards the sliding doors. She doesn't know what else to do. He'll be having customers lining up, waiting to pay. It would be terrible on her behalf to bother him at his workplace.

"Wait-"

She looks over her shoulder to see Edward jumping over the counter and running to her. It's an incredible sight. The pull of his muscles as he carries his own weight for a moment. He catches up to her. Albeit, a little unsteady.

"I met some guys a few streets away. Jared and Riley. We're going to have a bonfire tonight, do you want to come?"

She thinks for a minute as she assesses his out-of-breath words. She was never terrible at making friends, she just didn't do it often. She spent most of her summers in solitude with Marie. For others, such as Jessica Stanley, it may have been a living nightmare. Bella remembers a summer during her ninth grade where she didn't visit Marie.

Parties, cat-calls, cigarettes and vodka took up most of everyone's interests. She gave it a shot and it was fun initially, but then she realized that it was dangerously addictive. It fueled her rebellion from her parents. But it made her unhealthy. She found herself battling for control and balance. Her attempt at control border-lined to out of control.

She can remember guys kissing her neck and her tirelessly pushing them away. She remembers girls shouting compliments at her. Though it was more aimed at her attire. She remembers the impressed expression on Renee's face. To finally see her child join the others and not mope around at home. Bella wanted to belong, be part of the crowd. Until she realized that her goals and views differed to the many socialites around her.

She looks at Edward. His nervous gaze as he waits for a response. She isn't sure how long she's been staring into the emptiness of the space between them, perhaps looking like she was hypnotized or in an open-eyed, meditative state.

"Sure, why not." Bella replies at last.

"Cool," he smiles, making her skin tingle slightly with his crooked grin. He unclips the ballpoint pen from his breast-pocket of his uniform and scrawls down the address for Bella. Clicking the end of the pen to effectively mark the completion of his writing, he proceeds to hand the slip of paper to Bella. The awareness that both of them have not yet come into physical contact with each other is established when his fingertips suddenly brush against hers. Sending a jolt of surprise and static electricity.

"I think you just zapped me," Edward says, with a musical laugh. She could say the same. "Well, I'll see you later then. Six o'clock."

She nods, watching Edward walk back to the cash register. A young girl of about twelve is stomping her foot as she waits for Edward's return so that he can scan her items for purchase and bagging. Her scrunched up face makes Bella laugh as Edward bends down to profusely apologize to the young girl. As Bella turns to leave, a thought suddenly hits her. _This couldn't possibly be a date, could it?_

* * *

"Don't come home, too late," Marie's voice reminds Bella from upstairs as she slips on her sneakers to walk over to the address that is written on the slip of paper clutched in her hand. She walks out into the cool summer air.

"Bella!"

She looks for the person who just shouted her name. She finds a pair of emerald eyes staring back at her, grinning. He dangles his keys on his forefinger. His hair is now darker than usual, with the setting sun no longer illuminating the golden streaks. She can't help but observe him.

"I've realized how stupid it was of me not to offer you a ride. Or at least walk with you there. After all, we are neighbors." he says, running his hand through his hair.

"No, it's fine. I can walk."

"Please, I insist."

His eyes have now turned into the expressive, puppy-eyed begging. She laughs as she finds herself even more intrigued by Edward. Shrugging, she acquiesces. It earns her a beaming smile. One that is still nonetheless handsome.

He opens the car door for her. A gentleman. Bella waits as he rounds the front and sits in the driver's seat.

"You didn't have to do this, you know," she says.

"I wanted to," he reassures her.

It isn't too far away but Bella has no doubts that the temperature of Forks will plummet by the time they head back home. The roads are silent. Forks is filled with deafening silence of nightfall. They ride in silence. Until her words break the quietness.

"What model is this?" she asks, looking at the interior of the car.

"It's a Pontiac 6000," he mutters. "Clearly it's second-hand."

The car comes to a stop as they are parked outside of a wooden house, with the sky hanging above the house being a disbelievingly grey color.

"Wow, the smoke that these guys have made." He shakes his head, laughing.

"Are they even allowed to have such a big bonfire in their backyard? I mean Forks is filled with trees and woodlands. A bushfire could come from that." Bella says, worriedly.

Edward makes a face and nods at her point, saying nothing as he gets out and opens the door for Bella. They are soon met with introductions. Jared. A twenty-year old who is in college in LA, but visiting home. His dark brown hair and hazel eyes twinkle with kindness as he greets Bella. Then she meets Riley. An eighteen-year old who, like Bella, has also graduated from high school.

"Where do you hail from, Bella?"

"She's from NYC," Edward answers for her, as he puts the opening of a beer bottle between his lips.

Jared and Riley nod in approval as they stare at the brunette opposite them. She does seem different to the other New Yorkers they've met.

"Open up, boys!"

A holler from the front of the house jerks Jared to his feet. "I'm coming, Emily."

Half an hour later, the house is buzzing with life as people clink their bottles together. Bella remembers Edward only saying Jared and Riley being there. She wasn't prepared for a full-blown party to take place. But Edward's hand on her back calms her down.

"Hey, are you okay?"

She meets his worried eyes as she puts on a determined smile. "Yeah, I'm good."

A sudden realization hits her. She doesn't even know Edward's surname. She isn't sure if he knows hers, perhaps Marie's already informed him.

"What did you say your last name was?"

"I didn't. But it's Masen."

Edward Masen. Bella smiles at him.

"Do you have the same last name as your grandmother? Higginbotham?" he inquires.

"No, my surname is Swan," she says. Bella was glad she didn't have to take on the surname, Higginbotham, despite the fact that it was unique and quirky on so many levels. She was just sure that she would have gotten teased at school.

A ringtone disrupts whatever Edward was going to say as he digs out his phone from his back pocket. He frowns. Once again, Bella sees the disappearance of a man she has just spoken to seconds ago. The bright light of the screen illuminates his face. His face now has a mask. Indifference. Distance.

"I have to go," he says, abruptly. "I'm sorry."

He doesn't wait for a response as he strides to the front of the house. Once again, he leaves Bella standing there alone. Nervously, she wrings her fingers together as the sound of music and the burning of firewood cocoons her.

She isn't sure what to think.

* * *

**I have a new story, _Virulent_. Both stories will be updated weekly.**

**Love, perpetually.**


	10. Return

**Metamorphosis**

* * *

_The possession of knowledge does not kill the sense of wonder and mystery. There is always more mystery._

_– Anaïs Nin_

* * *

**9. Return**

Riley's silver car pulls up at Bella's house as she turns to thank him for his hospitality.

"Thanks for giving me a lift."

"No problem, Bella."

She slips out of the car but not before Riley had insisted on getting her number. She didn't want to come off as rude. Riley didn't seem all too bad. So she entered her digits before walking up to the front steps of her porch. Carefully opening the front door open, Bella walks in and drops her keys on top of the entryway dresser.

She climbs up the creaky stairs as she throws herself onto the bed. Edward's behavior has deeply confused her. One minute he's fine. Normal. Shy. And the next minute, he'd step back three miles. Creating a valley between the two of them. He is mysterious. An enigma. Almost like her. Perhaps he is more similar to her than she would have ever imagined.

He does not seem keen on revealing details about himself. And Bella would feel too bad to eject such answers from him with forceful questioning and coercion. After all, she sees that every day. People threatened each other, for the guarantee of their business and their freedom. She sees businessmen gambling their lives away, drowned in depression of where their shares are headed. She sees women questioning their husbands' fidelity as they come back home drunk. Ties undone. Cufflinks popped out. She will not be like them.

Feeling the insane urge to look past her curtain to see any hint, perhaps a clue, for Edward, she decides to peep out of her window and sees that there is not a single source of light from the blue house. She frowns slightly. Who stays at home with all the lights off? Perhaps he was at the back of his house. She walks to the bathroom, brushes her teeth and ties her hair in a knot on the top of her head. She would quit worrying for today. For she had a brilliant time at the bonfire and she made great friends there. Perhaps this summer she wouldn't be so lonely and only keep her grandmother company.

"Want to go to La Push Beach tomorrow?" Emily had asked her earlier that evening. Bella had been suspicious at first; thinking that Emily merely felt pity at the girl being left on her own at a party.

"I'm not sure," she'd replied.

"Oh come along! It'll be fun. I'm Victoria by the way," a red-haired girl had joined in, sticking out her hand for Bella to shake before continuing, "I've never seen you around."

"I come to Forks once in a while, I suppose," Bella had replied.

The beach was a date, set for tomorrow afternoon. But for now, Bella wants sleep. Her thoughts are like a lava lamp. Bright, colorful. Forever moving about and never pausing. She's riddled with dreams soon after.

_"Why do you keep avoiding me?" she says to him, holding onto his wrist as he tries to pull away._

_"What do you mean? I'm not avoiding you. I'm talking to you now."_

_But he won't meet her eyes._

_"You know what I mean. You can tell me, you know," Bella insists. _

_"You don't understand," he said, coolly. She drops her hand as he strides away._

The wind chimes hanging on the outside of her window dangle with delirium as Bella wakes up. Her eyes search for the red digits of time, as she sinks back into her pillow when she realizes that she has awoken at an ungodly hour. But the wind chimes do not stop. The branches scratch her window as she feels unease crawling up the nape of her neck. But then a tapping sound makes her look outside quizzically. And she sees him, hanging on the branches of the oak tree as he gives her a little wave. Politely asking to be let in.

She walks to the window and opens it as Edward's legs climb over the sill, followed by his torso. He gently shuts the window as he is met with the warmth of Bella's room. Immediately, Bella is acutely aware of her thin nightgown which also fails to conceal her bra-less chest. But it is too late for Edward already has his eyes on where her nipples are pointing out. He coughs, looking up. She notices a slight blush.

"I wasn't sure if this was your room or not, but I took a chance anyway," he explains himself. For all he knew, she may have seen him that day from the bedroom of her grandmother. It would have been terribly awkward for good, jolly Grandma Marie to have witnessed a teenage boy swinging on her tree branch like Tarzan and waiting for her to wake up.

"What are you doing here?" Bella says, her voice crisp and harsh. She flinches at her own tone. She doesn't mean to sound malicious but she can't help feeling hurt at his sudden departure earlier this evening.

"I wanted to apologize. I had to go home... some things came up. Did you get home safely?" he says, running a hand through his hair. "Well, I mean you're obviously home now. But yeah, I was... just wondering-"

"Riley gave me a lift. It was fine, thanks for asking," she replies curtly.

Edward breathes out slowly through his mouth, sounding like he's at a loss for words. "Okay, well... I'm sorry for waking you up, Bella."

He stares at her, looking her up and down. She sees him swallow before he ducks out of her window and into the night.

She has a feeling that a meeting of this sort will not be their last.

* * *

**Love, perpetually.**


	11. Question

**Metamorphosis**

* * *

_An unexamined life is not worth living. _

_– Socrates_

* * *

**10. Question**

"Do you know much about him?" Bella asks Jared, regarding Edward.

They are sitting at La Push beach, the whole group from the previous night. It is relieving to see them in broad daylight now. Their eyes seem brighter and their skin no longer being illuminated only by the flame of the bonfire.

"I only met Edward when he moved here. The guy seems pretty closed off," Jared replies, kicking his feet.

"Dude's hot though," Victoria says, with a mouthful of yoghurt as she is sprawled on a towel on the ground in her bikini. The sun is hardly out. Bella doesn't know why she's even bothering to suntan.

"Heard he's got stuff going on," Riley chimes in.

"Well, don't we look like a bunch of gossips," Jared scolds at the rest of the group. "Trust me Bella, we don't always do this. But I guess it's a small town. Speaking of which, it's interesting how we've never met you before."

"She's comes here 'once in a while'," Emily says, gesturing with quotation marks in the air.

"Oh yeah, she's a New Yorker, Em," Jared states. "Bet you'd like that."

"Really, Bella? You're from New York? What's it like there? Is it like Gossip Girl?" Emily asks with blatant interest. Bella wants to reply with a snarky comment about how it isn't always sunshine and rainbows to be part of the world of Gossip Girl, but she bites her tongue before she says something she may regret very much.

"Not really," she replies instead.

Emily's face falls a bit, tinged with a hue of disappointment. A quiet falls over the group.

"Sorry guys, got caught up at work."

"S'cool, dude," Riley says, turning around to greet Edward.

Guilt gnaws at Bella's stomach as she realizes that they had just been talking behind Edward's back minutes ago. She looks at him just as his eyes wander to hers. A crooked smile makes her forget the worries in her head.

"Did you enjoy yourself?" Edward asks her later, as they walk back home. A part of her feels ecstatic that he is her neighbor. The physical closeness. But also just knowing that the blue house Bella loves to spy on from time to time is being made into a home.

"Yeah," she replies, "I did, actually."

They stop in front of Edward's house. Bella isn't sure whether she should say her goodbyes and head back to her own house or stay here with Edward. Perhaps he would like to talk. She wasn't going to rob him of that. A calming chat with him would be preferable.

"What's your favorite food?" she asks, suddenly. He laughs.

"Twenty questions, I see."

She doesn't say anything in return, but she does smile.

"Spaghetti Bolognese," Edward says with certainty. "Let me guess yours."

She waits for him as he taps his forefinger on his chin. She likes this playful version of him. He looks... younger. The shadows of the bags under his eyes disappear as the corners of his eyes crinkle, showing off his crow feet features when he smiles. She loves his laugh lines. And she wants to tell him so. But she doesn't want to ruin the moment, nor does she want to interrupt his thought process.

"Pizza?"

She shakes her head.

"But everyone loves pizza!"

She doesn't shake her head this time. She giggles.

"I do love pizza. But it's sushi," she says, as her mind flicks back to the last time her parents and her had a sit-down, family dinner.

He nods appreciatively and asks his first question. "Any siblings?"

Bella shakes her head. For as long as she remembered, a sibling was all she wanted. She yearned to look after her baby sister or brother. Play. Sing. Be happy with her sibling. Maybe then she wouldn't always feel so alone. Even when she was at home.

"Same," he says, looking down. A shadow crosses his face before he looks up and smiles at Bella once more.

"What are you planning to do in life?" she asks. It seems like a loaded question, but she's sure he can handle it. He doesn't respond immediately. In fact, it almost feels like five minutes before Edward utters a word.

"Nothing," he says. Simplistically. Effortlessly.

"_Nothing..._" she repeats, thinking to herself what that could possibly mean. "So no college?"

He rubs his jaw as he shakes his head slightly. She notices the five o'clock shadow on Edward's jaw. She's surprised that she hasn't realized it earlier. She feels a stirring in her chest as she crosses her legs, then uncrosses them.

"Nothing for the time being," he says gently. A smile on his behalf marks the end of that question.

* * *

Half an hour later, Bella heads back to her own house. She feels like she's ten pounds lighter after that conversation with Edward. She can't help the smile that graces her lips as she peeks over her shoulder to look back at his house.

She walks to Marie's porch as a light drizzle of rain starts, creating miniature diamonds in her mahogany hair. A sticky note stuck on the front door greets her.

_Out. Tap dancing got pushed early today._

Bella chuckles as she digs into her pocket for her key, but her fingers make no contact with any metal. All she feels is fabric.

"Shit," she curses as she wonders what to do next. Marie never kept spare keys anywhere, simply stating that it'd be too easy for someone just to find their way in and loot all her precious family albums. She claimed that she was an old woman and pretty much defenseless if it ever came down to that.

She could run back to Edward's and ask to stay there until her grandmother would come back. They didn't even have each other's phone numbers. Did it mean that they were friends now? Good friends? Or just tour buddies.

Ducking her head as she runs under the light rain of the ever-changing weather of Forks, she finds herself knocking on Edward's front door. The house is completely silent. It almost feels like it's uninhabited. She peers into the window, hoping to herself that she does not look like a nosy neighbor or a crazed stalker.

She walks down the steps of the veranda and along the side of the house. She feels the brushing of leaves and flowers against her skin as she takes in the smell of nature. She finds herself in Edward's backyard. _Shit, I'm trespassing, _she thinks. But then she remembers Edward surprisingly climbing in through her window and she shrugs, _this is definitely nowhere near that extent_.

Perhaps she could knock on the backdoor and see if he would open up. Her plan already seemed bizarre, triggering Bella to think of how weird it could possibly get.

She knocks on the screen door as it rattles with her banging. Light footsteps echo from within the house. It isn't Edward who opens the door.

It's a woman.

* * *

**P.S Inspirational artworks for stories (located on Pinterest) are linked on profile for any curious souls.**

**Also, I think I can update every other day now. My schedule isn't too bad right now. But it will get hectic again, soon.**

**Love, perpetually.**


	12. New

**Metamorphosis**

* * *

_A picture is a secret about a secret, the more it tells you the less you know._

_ – Diane Arbus_

* * *

**11. New**

Bella stares at the woman who looks like a replica of Edward. Only female. And older. She has the same intriguing shade of reddish-brown hair and emerald green eyes. She seems to only be of friendliness and invitation. Bella can't help but beam at the woman's gentle smile.

"Bella, I'm Elizabeth... Edward's mother," the woman says, extending her hand for a handshake. Bella gratefully shakes the woman's hand, feeling hard bones and soft veins molded around her flesh.

"How do you know my name?" Bella asks, confused. She was sure she had never seen Elizabeth before.

"Edward talks about you," Elizabeth whispers in a secretive, child-like manner. Bella's heart flutters, like the beating wings of a trapped moth. She pushes a lock of hair behind her ear. She shifts her feet.

"Well, come on in. I'm presuming you knocked on the front door and I didn't hear it. My apologies, dear," Elizabeth says as she enters the kitchen and opens the door of the fridge. "What would you like to drink?"

"Juice?" Bella replies, sounding like a question. She is handed a glass of fresh orange juice and beckoned to sit down on the couch. Bella surveys the house. It did seem snug in here, like a cottage in its own tranquility. Located up in the mountaintops.

"How old are you, Bella?" Elizabeth asks.

"Eighteen."

"Oh well, what are your plans for the future?"

"I've been looking at biomedical research," Bella says. Elizabeth's eyes brighten as she stares at the young woman in front of her. Admiration is the only thing on top of Elizabeth's head.

"That sounds interesting," Elizabeth says after sipping from her glass.

"Perhaps cancer research too," Bella adds. She is not fully sure what she wants in life yet. But she does know that life is too short to be miserable and unhappy. She's sure she'll make a living and a good one while she's at it.

"Yes... that does sound good," Elizabeth says, looking far into the distance. Their conversation comes to a pause when Edward comes in.

"Mom, who are you talking-"

He meets Bella's eyes. She sees surprise, then a look of confusion. In that very moment, Bella realizes that she's caught Edward off guard. He doesn't seem to like it too much.

"What are you doing here?" he asks. She senses irritation as well.

"I-I... was locked outside. So I knocked on your door, wondering if I could stay here for a while..." she says, her voice faltering by the end. Edward's eyes have gone a darker green color. He doesn't look happy at all. But they immediately soften when Elizabeth speaks up.

"Oh Edward, don't be so rude to this lovely girl. I've been having a nice chat with her."

Elizabeth sends a kind smile over to Bella as she turns her head slightly to reprimand Edward.

"Sorry mom," he says sheepishly. He looks apologetically at Bella. "I'm sorry Bella. I didn't mean to overreact."

"Oh look at the time! It's almost time for dinner. Would you like to stay?" Elizabeth offers, excitedly.

"Mom-"

Elizabeth waves Edward away as she beams at Bella. Thoughts are running through her head as she watches Bella's response. She thinks Bella will be good for her son. She can already feel her heart racing.

"Sure," Bella says, avoiding Edward's heated gaze. She's confused by his behavior. Was this a solid friendship between the two or just an on-and-off relationship?

"Good, well that's settled then."

The three of them sit in quietness. The only one excited is Elizabeth. Her mind whizzes at the speed of light.

* * *

They find themselves with lasagne for dinner. Edward and Bella eat while Elizabeth sits in her chair. She watches the two.

"Not hungry again, mom?" Edward asks, worriedly. Elizabeth shakes her head with a reassuring smile.

Bella finishes her meal and feels a burp coming out. It's too late. Usually she'd suppress it. At events and parties, it would be an utter disgrace for a lady like herself to burp in front of the guests. Bella recalls high heels and long, silky dresses. She can feel the heated curler going through her waves as they end up styling her hair until they become a cascade of gentle loops. But she doesn't have to be like that here. _I can burp all I want_, she laughs to herself.

"Sorry," she says timidly, suddenly reminded by the fact that she has only just met Elizabeth. She covers her mouth.

Elizabeth releases a heartfelt laugh as Bella has transformed into a scared looking deer. _A little bit like Bambi_, Elizabeth thinks to herself.

"Don't worry dear, you should hear the ghastly sounds he can make," Elizabeth jokes, pointing in Edward's direction. He shakes his head as he stares back at his lasagne. It gives him a cheesy smile back.

"Did you make this?" Bella asks Edward, wanting to forget about her burp. The lasagne tasted delicious.

He nods his head.

"He's a great cook," Elizabeth says as she stares at her son with affection. Bella wonders if anyone catches Renee or Charlie staring at her with that much pride and joy. _Of course they do_, Bella thinks angrily. They were her parents. Parents loved their kids, otherwise, they would not have been good parents. Though, she doesn't want to think about the criteria for good parents at this very moment.

"Can I use the bathroom?" Bella asks. She is given directions to head down the corridor and go into the second door on the right.

She walks and sees photos hanging on the wall. She sees a baby Edward with the most adorable cheeks she has ever seen. She sees photos of Elizabeth wearing a floppy hat and retro sunglasses. She reminds Bella of Renee. The same style and fashion. But Elizabeth looks plumper in the photos than she does now. The woman's veins and bones are more accentuated in actuality.

She sees photos of Edward in his school uniform with a grin plastered on his face. She sees a photo of Edward and a broomstick. He's wearing a long, dark robe. _Harry Potter phase_, Bella thinks to herself humorously.

"He was a great kid," Elizabeth says, suddenly standing behind Bella. Bella feels like her heart has pounced right out of her chest.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snoop around," Bella apologizes. Elizabeth touches Bella's hand in comfort, telling her that it's alright.

"I wish I was a better mother," Elizabeth quietly says. Bella doesn't know what she means by that. She thinks back to her own mother. Does Renee ever feel like this? Do people put on masks to pretend that they're okay when they're not, even when they're struggling with their own duties of parenthood? Bella's mind is filled with questions.

"I'm sure you raised him well," Bella says. She doesn't know anything about Edward's history. She can only make assumptions in the dark. "I mean, he turned out quite well."

Elizabeth's smile returns as she stares at Bella. "You are a wise one _and_ a keeper."

Bella's journey to the toilet continues. Staring at the mirror after washing her hands, she sees a girl with flushed cheeks and a flustered demeanor. She sees brown hair and brown eyes. Pale skin and pink lips. She looks so ordinary that it hurts. Bella never understood why she was even liked at school. She wasn't the most popular, but she was indeed part of the popular ring. It may have been because of her money, or her family, or her status. After all, that was all anyone really cared about.

She switches off the light and makes her way down the corridor. But she stops in the shadows as she hears hushed voices whispering.

"You have to eat," Edward insists. "It's bad for you and you know it."

"Well, my appetite ain't here. You don't know my body. I know it myself," Elizabeth replies stubbornly.

"The doctor said you should still try to eat, even if you're not feeling like it. Every meal is important," Edward argues back.

Bella finds herself in a dilemma about whether she should continue to eavesdrop on this personal conversation and stay hidden in the dark or if she should step out and say her goodbyes before making her way back home. Marie must be worried as to why Bella wasn't home by now.

"She's a good one," Elizabeth says, trying to remove herself from the conversation about her appetite.

"Mom, don't change the topic. We aren't finished."

"No no, but I know that she's a good one. She's unique. But I can't help but feel that she is lonely. Why don't you hang out with her more? Stop looming over me all the time," Elizabeth says. Bella sees the woman jabbing a finger into Edward's chest. She giggles as she sees that Elizabeth's other hand is positioned on her hip in a sassy way.

"Well, we only just moved here, didn't we? Don't want to scare Bella away just yet."

Bella's unable to tell if Edward's being sarcastic or not but Elizabeth definitely can.

"Don't use that tone of voice with me. Be nice to her. She's a clever one... just like you."

Elizabeth reaches up and strokes her son's cheek. Bella takes a couple of steps back before she walks into the living room again, pretending that she hadn't heard any of the conversation.

"I think I should head back now. My grandma must be waiting anxiously for me."

"Tell your grandmother to come here next time!" Elizabeth says, excitedly. Bella agrees and thanks them for dinner before she makes her way back home.

Elizabeth's words about not being an adequate mother still rings in Bella's ears. She jogs up to Marie's porch and knocks on the door. She finds herself spinning in her own thoughts.

Unbeknownst to Bella and Edward, Elizabeth retreats into her bedroom. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she is thrown into a coughing fit. She feels like she can't breathe. But then suddenly, air enters her lungs and she can breathe again. But her plain tissue is now stained with red.

* * *

**The lengths of these chapters really do vary depending on the situation. Sometimes a short one might follow a long one, sometimes it won't. Hope y'all have been having a remarkable time.**

**Love, perpetually.**


	13. Offer

**Metamorphosis**

* * *

_Sweep my dreams not beneath my feet. Be somewhere that my steps won't meet. Breaking the broom isn't a must. Don't mistake unmoved dreams for dust._

_– Isaiah J. Lawrence_

* * *

**12. Offer**

"The Bahamas are amazing, Bella! You should totally be here."

Bella finds herself on the webcam with Rosalie and Alice, her two friends at school. They would always be joined at the hip. Sharing everything in common. From clothes to music to fashion to boys.

"How's Forks?" Rosalie asks as Alice paints her toenails in the background.

"It's good," Bella replies, mid-yawn.

"You sound gloomy," Alice notes. "Maybe you need some sunshine like the rest of us, before we all head to college."

The three girls continue to talk about their summer before Bella's phone rings. She looks at the caller ID and sees that it's her mother. A part of her wants to decline the call and pretend that a passing sickness is the reason behind not wanting to talk to her mom. But the other part of Bella tells her to be the good daughter and talk to Renee. She takes preference to the side of the angel.

"I've got to go, my mom's calling me."

They say their goodbyes while Bella finds herself saying greeting Renee.

"What can I do for you?" Bella asks. Her own tone of professionalism stuns her. It evidently shocks Renee as well.

"Did I do something wrong? Why are you being like this to your dear mother?" Renee asks innocently, making Bella realize that Renee has pressed down the button to activate her instinctive guilt trip on Bella.

"No you didn't do anything wrong," Bella says, sighing. Renee's spirit lifts after that.

"Oh honey, your father has made some really good deals this time. I'm so proud of him. We should get you something this time, for being such a good child," Renee babbles on. "Do you want a puppy? I kind of want a puppy. The house feels too big sometimes without a pet."

Bella doesn't respond. She does like puppies but in the end it is all about Renee.

"Why aren't you saying anything, Isabella?"

"It's Bella, mom," Bella finally says. "And I don't really care whether we get a pet or not."

"_Bella_? Works with me," Renee says simply, despite the fact that Bella never asked for her approval. Renee's suspicions of her teenage daughter's moodiness increase ten folds. Renee ponders about why Bella is acting the way she is. Bella never sought attention from people. But sometimes she felt neglected by her parents. It was just too hard to declare such a feeling, sometimes.

"You met a boy, didn't you?" Renee says, smugly.

"What- no! Mom, what are you on about," Bella says, flustered.

"No need to panic, Bella. I know I'm right," Renee says. Bella can imagine her mother smirking in victory. "So what's his name? Is he tall, dark and handsome?"

Bella huffs as she pulls her phone away from her face and glares at the screen. Her mother's contact photo is of her at the annual charity event for the local orphanage. Renee has on a bold lipstick. Her blonde hair is curled in vintage waves. It wouldn't even seem like it was for the local orphanage if a third person saw the photo on Bella's phone.

"Is he... rich?" Renee asks with uncertainty. Renee knows that it's Forks. She knows that it's a level beneath her.

"Mom, this is ridiculous. I'm going to hang up now. I hope you enjoy the rest of your journey with dad."

Renee's protests through the phone are morphed into silence as Bella presses the red button. Bella rolls onto her back, just staring at the ceiling. She isn't sure how long she stares at the white before the sound of tapping makes her raise her head. The wind chimes move. Edward is here.

* * *

He steps through. A lock of hair falls into his eyes and she has a tingly sensation... a desire to move it away from his face.

"What are you doing here?" she asks. The last time they'd seen each other, at Edward's house for dinner, he seemed rather irritated by her mere presence. Bella is clueless about what Edward could possibly want from her now. He's a puzzle that she's waiting to solve, he's a complex Rubik's cube. She could definitely feel his mood swings giving her unnecessary whiplash. She rubs her neck.

"I was hoping we could go watch a movie... or have dinner together," he says, looking down at his feet as they shuffle around on Bella's carpeted floor.

She's perplexed. Being with Edward was mesmerizing and quite fun, but she couldn't help but feel that every time they advanced a step forward in their friendship, he would jump two steps back. It was almost as if he couldn't tolerate Bella after a certain amount of hours.

"Are you acting on behalf of your mother or do you really want to hang out with me?" Bella asks, rather coolly.

Edward's head jerks up as he seems a little startled in terms of what he should say to console Bella's obvious vexation. He sees her warm, brown eyes no longer oozing patience and tenderness. Instead, he notices a steely gaze replaced in its place. _A defense mechanism_, Edward thinks to himself. He knows all about those. They keep a person safe. They allow people not to make mistakes. Not to become hurt. Not to get trampled on. He doesn't blame her for that, after all, he's familiar with such a mechanism. He guards himself carefully too.

"Can we sit down and talk?" he asks, gingerly. Bella nods and directs him to her bed. The springs move up and down as they both perch on the edge of it.

"I'm sorry, Bella-"

"I hear that a lot from you, you know?" she says. "You never stop apologizing. But you never stop repeating what you did in the first place."

Stupidly, Edward feels an urge to crack a joke. He wants to ask Bella if PMS was, by any chance, affecting her right now. But then he thinks through it again. He decides that it's probably a bad idea to make such a ludicrous joke. He does comment to himself about how sexy Bella looks when she's mad. He's new to this feisty side of Bella. She might be able to push him out of the window for all he knew. Edward's eyes widen slightly.

"I know. I'll try to be better," Edward says, sincerely. "My mother _may_ have insisted on me asking you out, but I genuinely want to know you better as well."

_Asking you out_, Bella repeats to herself in her head. So this was about a date then. She had gone on a couple of dates at the insistence of Rosalie and Alice, but she would never classify it as 'dating'. Instead, it was a chain of singular dates with an endless list of guys who Bella never found any common grounds with. Some she would make great friends with later on. Others probably talked about how much of a 'frigid bitch' Bella was, obviously nursing their wounded egos and shattered pride.

"I'll think about it then," Bella says, as she stands up and stares outside the window. She looks down, pressing her forehead to the glass, as she tries to imagine Edward agilely climbing up into her room.

She feels his hand on her shoulder and the same static shock that passed through them once, stuns Bella again. She jumps a little.

"Sorry," he mumbles. He apologizes too much and she jumps back in alarm far too often.

She turns around and stares at him. She sees a boyish shyness in his eyes. She sees emerald green and seagrass turquoise. She sees darkness around his eyes, a little more emphasized underneath. She sees tiredness and humbleness etched onto his features. Her heart gives way. She likes Edward. She doesn't know much about him, but she doesn't mind taking a chance. She knows she'll regret it if she doesn't.

"Okay," she says, quietly.

"Okay?"

"I'll go on this date of yours," Bella says.

His eyes sparkle with gratitude. She puts up her hand and continues. "Promise me, you won't suddenly leave again."

"Suddenly leave-"

"You know what I mean. Leave me at a party. Walk away from me. Act as if I'm repulsive," Bella says. Her voice is a soft whisper. Her insecurities shine brightly in front of Edward. He recognizes them. He recognizes them within himself as well.

"You're not repulsive to me. You could never be."

She realizes that they are standing nose-to-nose. Like two lovers. Like two people ready to embrace and kiss. Or perhaps two people who have already kissed and are recovering from their breathlessness. She feels like their foreheads are touching, but she's not sure. But she swears she feels herself arching into him. And him, bending lower and lower.

"You're not repulsive, Bella. I'm sorry I made you think like that," Edward says, looking upset.

She can feel his breath on her face. She can feel the butterflies swarming in her stomach. She can feel her fingertips twitching and her mind racing. There is a man in her room who is literally half an inch away from her face. Oddly, Bella suddenly hopes that her grandmother will not choose this moment to barge in. As that would be quite the trigger for numerous questions to follow. Bella would have to find a way to dig herself out of that mess.

She feels like they stand there for a whole ten minutes. She feels like there is a connection made between Edward and herself. Green moss meeting brown roots. Enigma meeting mystery. Nineteen meeting eighteen. But most importantly, boy meeting girl. And so after the girl agrees to go on a date with the boy, the boy does nothing else but hugs the girl. She hums with surprise and awe. He feels a copious amount of excitement and appreciation. Then, he leaves and she sleeps. At least she tries to.

They have a hard time falling asleep, for both of them do not let the other leave their minds for too long.

* * *

**I wish I had more time in my day to read more stories here. Lately, I've just been writing and working. Haven't gotten around to reading much, sadly.**

******I am thankful for every one of you who decide to read, review, support or talk about this story. It really brightens my day.**

**Love, perpetually.**


	14. Date

**Metamorphosis**

* * *

_Acknowledging the good that you already have in your life is the foundation for all abundance. _

_– Eckhart Tolle_

* * *

**13. Date  
**

"Buckle yourself in," he says. His tone is playful. She loves that about him.

"Why? Will it be a long ride?" she asks, curiously.

"Well, even if it's not a long ride, I don't want to get arrested for having my date not wearing her seat-belt," he says, incredulously. She giggles. It warms his heart.

His hand instinctively turns up the heat in the car, he doesn't want her to be cold. It's night time in Forks, the temperature has dropped again. His eyes quickly glance at her bare legs. They appear to be bare, but she is wearing a pair of semi-opaque pantyhose. Her dress has ridden up to her mid-thighs. He gulps and looks away. She looks more beautiful than ever. But her blush shows that she is embarrassed and begs to differ.

"You're beautiful," he murmurs. It's the third time he's told her tonight and they haven't even started driving yet.

"Thanks," she says, quietly.

Edward had picked Bella up at six o'clock sharp. Marie just gave both of them a smile, before diving for her handy camera and asking the two to pose.

"It's not prom!" Bella had exclaimed. Edward just laughed in response, along with Marie.

They drive in silence, occasionally offering their opinions on the song that would play on the radio. He comments on how good it is while she scoffs to disagree. When the next one comes up, it'll be the opposite. She squeals in her seat whilst he looks away, mocking disgust. They laugh at the end of their bickering.

"You never told me we're going to Port Angeles," Bella says, as she starts to realize the highway Edward pulls up on.

"You never asked," he says casually. "Plus, I asked Marie for advice and she told me that the pizzeria there is excellent. I plan to take you to Port Angeles a lot in the near future."

"You _consulted _my grandma?" she asks, shocked. She's carefully ignored his last sentence. She doesn't want excitement to ruin her good luck with him.

"Sure I did, I asked for her blessing," he says before quickly clamping his mouth shut as it sounds like something else entirely. _Sounds like he's talking about __matrimony_, Bella thinks to herself. They arrive at the restaurant in record time, with Edward walking around the front of the car to open Bella's door. She touches his arm as she thanks him and together, they walk into the restaurant with linked arms.

He speaks to the host as he asks for what name they are under. Bella takes this time to stare at Edward. His face is clean-shaven and his hair is combed, although not making much of a difference, but the effort has been put in and she smiles at that. He looks terribly handsome.

"You're beautiful," she whispers to him, parroting his own words. They are now waiting to be directed to their table.

"Men don't like to be called beautiful," Edward chuckles. He turns to face her fully and presses a gentle kiss to her cheek. He hasn't been anything but kind and gentlemanly this evening. His lips linger on the apple of her cheek as her rosy blush makes its famous appearance.

"Your cheeks are warm," he murmurs, before pulling away.

He holds her hand as they walk over to where they'll dine for the night. Situated near the windows that overlook the harbor, they are to eat in a nice, cosy area of the restaurant. Practically, in the corner. Out of sight from the rest of the patrons.

"Hello, my name is Natalie and I'll be your waitress tonight."

A blonde stands by their table. She smiles at Bella but her eyes are magnetized to Edward's as she looks him up and down. Bella notices Natalie subtly licking her lips. She frowns. Edward has his head buried inside the menu book as he flips the pages. Natalie looks back at Bella and then at Edward. Perhaps, wondering what the relation is between the two.

They settle on each getting their own brick oven pizzas with salad dressings on the side. Bella usually didn't eat much, so eating a whole (delicious) pizza may still be a challenge. She looks at Edward after their orders have been placed. He's already staring at her with a smile on his face. He looks relaxed.

"What are you thinking about?" he asks, scrutinizing her.

"Nothing..." she says. "Well, I'm sort of thinking about how nice this place is and how well this date is going."

It's probably one of the best extended interactions they've ever had in their miniscule history of big, secretive departures.

"Did you... not expect this date to go well?" he asks. She can't tell if he's hurt or not by her words. His face has become unreadable. By his body language- his eyes gazing downwards- she feels the need to explain herself.

"Of course not, I was just thinking of how _well _it _is_ going," she says, emphasizing her point with hand movements and praying that he would understand. She hopes he will not ask her to elaborate. She's only trying to make conversation.

He smiles at her, reaching over the table to grasp her hands.

"Shall we continue the twenty questions we never finished?" he asks.

As they wait for their food, they find themselves settling into laughter and jokes. They find themselves falling into mutual understanding and contagious hilarity. They find similarities within each other and dissimilarities in their disputes. And for once in her life, Bella truly smiles at her date and thinks to herself about how lucky she is to have met Edward.

* * *

**Might update tomorrow. Hope y'all are having a splendid day.**

**Love, perpetually.**


	15. Closer

**Metamorphosis**

* * *

_Touch has a memory._

_– John Keats_

* * *

**14. Closer**

"_Twelve Angry Men_," she says, matter-of-factly. "Who doesn't love that classic?"

"It was good, but I mean, _To Kill a Mockingbird_ was definitely better."

Bella stares at Edward carefully, as he leans closer to return his share of intensity to their staring contest. They end up looking like a comical pair, simply gazing into each other's eyes, over some pizza. She bursts into laughter. He finds the edges of his lips helplessly curling upwards because of her, as if she's a puppeteer controlling his bodily movement. He finds himself intoxicated by her.

"Okay, I agree. _To Kill a Mockingbird_ is definitely amazing. Gregory Peck was so handsome in it and the storyline was incredibly moving. But Henry Fonda was spectacular in _Twelve Angry Men_, as well," Bella says as she lifts another piece of pizza into her mouth.

She's halfway through and her stomach is already feeling like it's eaten a whole week's worth of food. _Perhaps it's also because I'm laughing so hard with Edward_, she evaluates.

"Okay, okay, my turn," Bella says as she adjusts herself in her chair. They've been playing this game throughout the course of their meal. It has already passed the twentieth benchmark; it's like the fortieth question by now.

"Past girlfriends?" she asks. Her voice is softer now, their laughs dying down. It was never a good idea to discuss past relationships with your current date. That was a well-known rule acknowledged by most people in the world. But Bella feels as if she's known Edward for much longer than the one and a half hour of dinner they've been sharing. _This is a different case, _she tells herself.

"Had one, during high school," he says. "Didn't work out."

She nods as she thinks of what that girl could've possibly looked like. Acted like. Or been like. Was she similar to Edward in characteristics and temperament? Maybe she was the stark opposite of Edward.

"I can hear your mind racing," Edward murmurs as he looks into Bella's eyes. She looks away. Her gaze ventures out to the harbor. She's looking everywhere but him. "I can tell you more, if that's what you want."

She shrugs nonchalantly, putting the ball in his court.

"She was lovely, we grew up together. We weren't that well-off. Her family struggled financially, with her father often gambling. So in other words, she was a childhood friend. She was always there for me when I needed a hand or a shoulder to cry on.

"Katelyn was her name. We dated for two years before we called it off. There wasn't a crystal clear reason for why we broke up. We kind of just did. I guess we realized we wanted different things in life which was essentially preferential to our girlfriend-boyfriend relationship."

Edward takes a breath, before continuing again.

"She met a guy called Garrett. He treated her well and yeah..." he says, taking a sip of his drink. Bella notices Edward hadn't even finished what he was going to say. "What about you Bella? Did you date?"

Bella starts to recall all the various dates she'd been on. Bizzare would be the word she'd use to describe the whole experience. She always questioned herself as to why she even continued to go on dates. It was almost like a side-activity, a sport on the weekends. It was something that allowed Bella to talk to her friends about, for most of them were doing the same as well.

"I've been on a few dates," Bella says. "Though, I haven't had any steady boyfriends."

Edward raises his eyebrows. He feels comfortable cracking a joke now, especially when the girl he likes isn't on the potential verge of anger and temptation to toss him out of her window. He can picture a flock of men chasing after her.

"Were you just high-maintenance or were there too many guys to sift and choose from?" he asks with a chuckle. She smirks and shakes her head, labeling such a thought as ridiculous.

"I just never met my match," she says. Silence envelops them as Edward and Bella retreat to their own thoughts. They finish their dinner and decide not to have any dessert. Instead, they are keen to walk around Port Angeles in the cool atmosphere of the beautiful night. They ask for the bill.

"I can pay for my own meal," Bella insists. Edward shakes his head, smiling.

"It's a date, let the man pay."

"Well, what if your date is a headstrong feminist? Don't you care about her feelings on this particular matter," Bella says. _She's got wit_, Edward notes.

"Sure, I respect your feelings. But then we can also counter-argue about my feelings. I'd love to pay, so would you kindly let me? I also have a white horse waiting for us outside. It was meant to be a surprise," he says with a dramatic look on his face. She gazes blankly at him.

Then she realizes his lips turning downwards until they rest at a pleading pout. She notices his enlarged eyes as he tries to mimic the twinkling, cartoon effects of the puppy-eyed look. It earns him a belly-laugh from Bella.

"Fine, you win," she says, putting her purse back into her handbag. He smiles with victory.

Later, they walk down to the harbor as she looks at the gentle moving sea.

The waves that lap at the shore.

The moonlight creating a glistening reflection into the deep blue water.

Bella, captivated by such an enthralling sight. She stands there, soaking it all in.

"Take a photo then," he whispers behind her ear as he slides his arms around her waist. She tilts her head slightly, confused.

"How did-"

"Your eyes say it all. You're enchanted by it. Don't you ever see the moon and the stars?" he asks as he rests his head on her shoulders, swaying in a rhythmic motion. She can't help but lean back, pressing herself against his chest and feeling his warmth emitting onto her, creating a cocoon around herself. She takes out her phone and takes a few photos.

"You know, I used to like to take photos," she mumbles as they walk towards the wharf. Their feet tap against the wooden boards.

"Why did you ever stop?" Edward says, still linking his fingers with Bella's.

"I don't know. I think I just... forgot." she quietly says. A whisper almost to herself. "More important things took over my life and that part of me just faded away."

He nods in understanding and says, "I guess we all just grow up, but we still miss the memories and the things we used to love as kids."

_Nostalgia_, Bella tastes. She can feel it rising beneath her feet and pulling at her crown. Its strong presence is demanding.

"I do see the moon and the stars," says Bella. She looks up at the sky again; the moon stares back at her with its utmost vibrancy. She's in awe of such majesty. "But in New York, it looks a little different. It almost looks brighter here."

The city that never slept, with its endless sounds of traffic and lights, inadvertently belittled the grandeur of the moon and the stars. Many people didn't even notice the stars because of the lights everywhere. Sometimes pollution and clouds would block the splendor of the night sky. The cars posed as man-made stars when stared from afar.

She pushes Edward forward. He stumbles a bit, looking at her questioningly.

"Stand there, I want to get a silhouette of you by the moon."

Bella takes a photo of Edward staring at the moon, by the sea, on the wharf. She takes a moment to look away from the screen of her phone and just at Edward in front of her. She sees grace and beauty. She sees a man who is kind and gentle. Mysterious and misunderstood. Complex and concealed.

He drives her back home and stands on her porch. He says he likes her a lot and she says the same. He apologizes for the stupid actions he's performed and she waves it away. He tucks a hair behind her ear and she leans into him. Slowly but surely, he presses a kiss to her lips. Her arms link around the back of his neck as she steps onto her toes. His hands instinctively grab onto her waist.

She falls into hypnosis. He falls into heaven.

They kiss until the lone cry of a wolf is heard from the nearby woodlands of Forks. They kiss until they need to take a breath. Smiling, they're back at it again. They kiss until they can only see stars behind their eyes and feel weightlessness at their feet.

They don't notice the moon sheepishly hiding behind the branches of the oak tree beside them as the night cloaks around the two kissing figures.

* * *

**I guess we've all been waiting for this moment. ****It's finally happened with so much enchantment and exultation.**

**I hope I've made it sound artistically alluring. (Alliterations are taking over my head)  
**

**Love, perpetually.**


	16. Ponder

**Metamorphosis**

* * *

_Not a visible enthusiasm but a hidden one, an excitement burning with a cold flame._

_ – Patrick Süskind_

* * *

**15. Ponder**

She opens her eyes as she tries to find her bearings. She's light-headed and dreamy. Floating. Drifting. She's unsure if today's her date with Edward or if it's happened already. She's in a moment of temporary, mental fogginess. One that is ever-present when waking up after a night full of fireworks. _Oh that's right, it's already happened_, she thinks to herself, flopping back down onto her pillows.

She recalls the kiss she shared with Edward last night as her fingers trace her lips.

Marie had smiled knowingly after Bella had finally entered through the front door last night. Marie hadn't said much, she just stared at the book in her lap as Bella languidly walked up the stairs, faintly muttering something about going to bed.

"Those kids," Marie had mumbled under her breath as she went back to her reading.

Bella looks up at her ceiling as she rests lopsided on her bed, not giving a care in the world. She feels like a wild flower being blown casually by the caress of the wind. She can feel her petals fluttering with the internal thudding of her chest. Her phone begins to ring. She picks it up and sees her father's name glowing as the caller ID. Bella hits the green button.

"Hey dad," Bella says, rubbing her eyes.

"Sweetheart, how are you doing? Your mother and I are so sorry for not calling and checking up on you earlier," Charlie says, concerned.

"It's all been well," Bella replies, playing with a strand of her hair, as her mind can't help but wander back to the events of last night. _It was more than I could have imagined_, she sighs dreamily.

"Well, that's good to hear. We've been called to London, so that's why I'm calling to let you know that our trip will be a little extended. We were planning to get back next week but it looks like there's a few more stops to go," Bella's father says.

"That's fine dad, I understand," Bella says.

"Your mother wants to talk to you... hang on, Renee, here you go-... Bella! How are you, dear?" Bella hears, as there is a shuffling of the phone from her father's voice to her mother's.

"Hey mom," Bella says. "Everything's fun, summer in Forks is nice as usual."

"Yes, indeed," Renee murmurs in agreement. "So any more news on the boy who's stolen your attention?"

Bella rolls her eyes as she laughs at how Renee is so interested in her dating life. She loves her mother dearly so she feels obligated to share, at least a little bit of, what had happened last night.

"I went on a date, mom," Bella says. She can hear a happy squeal from Renee whilst Charlie demonstrates his discontentment through some grumbling.

"I want to meet him, Bella. You should invite him to New York," Renee says, smoothly.

All of a sudden, Bella starts to think about it all. In a clearer light. Is this thing between Edward and her just one of those typical summer romances? Or can it be something more? She's never even told Edward about much of her personal life. He doesn't know that Charlie and Renee are big shareholders, with a tonne of money on their hands. They play and gamble with money for heaven's sake. He doesn't know about Charlie and how his family business has blossomed into one of the largest pharmaceutical companies in the country. He doesn't know about Renee and Charlie, or the rest of the Swans for that matter.

She comes to the blunt realization that he hardly knows anything about her. She doesn't know much about him either. The castle wall of mystery he's built around himself is impenetrable. Bella questions her feelings towards Edward. Is it just lust that they feel? Or could it be more? Her mind is reeling with spaces and dashes.

Most importantly, he doesn't know about her lifestyle. He doesn't know about the neighborhood she has grown up in. The gossip, the environment and the people that surround her. He might not like her after all this. While he is humble and down-to-earth, she has appearances and a public image to keep. Not everyone was bad, but if you had a purpose in words and superiority in strides, you weren't bulldozed to the ground. Easy targets were easy prey. They were the double ring of a dart board. The outer ring, the outsiders.

Belonging was crucial for survival and it was all Bella knew. She hopes Edward will be able to accept the standards of such a society. _I like him a lot_, she tells herself.

Edward hasn't mentioned much about college, well Elizabeth hadn't said anything about Edward going to college when Bella talked about what she wanted to do. Can Renee and Charlie afford to have their one and only daughter dating a directionless, college-less man? Are they capable of embracing him with open arms?

She doesn't know much about Edward yet, but she knows her parents. They have expectations and they expect Bella to respect them. She feels like she's constantly doing the limbo, she's always bending back and giving in. She yearns to bin the rules and crawl under the limbo bar. She wants to do it her way.

Bella wants to know Edward better. The summer is still young and she isn't ready to go home yet. Her parents make it seem as if they want her home by the time they come back from their trip. She can't afford to do that. She doesn't want to leave Edward. She's only starting to discover herself within her small space of a glittery, oyster shell.

"I'll ask him," Bella finally says. "It was just our first date. We still don't know what will happen next."

Renee finds Bella's response acceptable. She wishes her daughter a nice day and after saying the _'I love you'_s with her parents, the call is disconnected. The day hasn't even started and her head is already hurting with the amount of struggle she is feeling within herself. Her chest feels a little tight. Her head feels a little sore. She might stay in today.

She looks at the phone that is still in her hand. It feels heavy with the knowledge that Edward and her had exchanged numbers last night after their delightful kiss. She can text him. It's a few clicks away. She doesn't recall him saying he was busy today. _Maybe I shouldn't bother him_, she thinks to herself as she internally weighs her options.

She makes up her mind. She texts him. She waits for a response.

And she gets one.

* * *

**There is a long journey ahead. **

**Love, perpetually.**


	17. Pupa

**Metamorphosis**

* * *

_Live as if you were to die tomorrow. Learn as if you were to live forever. _

_– Mahatma Gandhi_

* * *

**16. Pupa  
**

She's got a visitor. A six foot tall, young man.

Edward sits on Bella's bed after being let in by her grandmother. He received the text she sent and decided to visit her, before the afternoon shift at the supermarket would call him away.

She's dressed, brushed her teeth and looking polished. Her outstretched hands allow Edward to wrap his arms around her waist and hold her body close to his. She breathes him in while he kisses the top of her head. He takes in the sweet aroma of her shampoo, its fragrance wafting through her thick locks. It smells magnificent, just like her.

"I missed you," he murmurs. "Even though we haven't been apart for that long."

"I know what you mean," she says, turning to look up at him. She presses a kiss to his neck.

He groans. "Bella, what are you doing to me?"

Bella giggles as she continues to kiss the other side of his neck, near his jawline. She can feel his five o'clock shadow scratching her lips.

"Kind of like exfoliating your lips, right? What do they call it... a lip scrub," he jokes. She's perplexed as to how he can read her so well. But she's also amused at how much he knows about exfoliating.

"Why? Do you exfoliate, big man?" she asks, tilting her head back to get a good look at him.

"Perhaps," he replies with a cheeky grin. She pokes his cheek as she smiles at him. He decides to tickle her, racking her with girly squeals and breathless giggles.

They start to talk about what they want to do for the day, before Edward informs her that he needs to go to work at four o'clock in the afternoon.

"Why do you work there, if you don't mind me asking?" Bella says. They're lying down on her bed now. Her left hand and his right hand. Touching and caressing. She turns her head to the left as she stares at him looking up at her ceiling.

"I need the money," he says. There is a vagueness to his response. She's sure that he doesn't mean it in an avaricious way. Every time he answers her question, three additional ones pop up in her head. He takes this moment to roll onto his elbow and lean over her. He presses a kiss to her cheek as his hand cradles the other side of her face.

"Stop... distracting me," she breathes heavily as his kisses ignite her skin on fire. She feels her toes tingling and her heart beating like a stallion racing down the hillside.

"I think you're the distracting one," he mumbles next to her ear as he grasps her hand and places it on his chest. She can feel the quick tempo of his heartbeat underneath her fingertips. She feels herself humming alongside the pulsing organ that is supplying him with life.

"Tell me about yourself, Bella," he says, looking into her eyes. She feels like he's searching for something. It's like he's determined to unveil the naked truth of her very being.

"There's not much to tell," she says.

"Well, what about your friends? What do you like to do for fun?" he suggests. She realizes that he likes to discuss things of a lighter nature. _What is he hiding that's so bad?_ She thinks to herself.

"Well, I have a few friends. I've known Angela Weber the longest. I also have two lovely friends, Rosalie and Alice. They're currently on holiday together. They're going to different universities so I guess they figured they would spend this time making unforgettable memories," she replies.

"Did they not invite you?" he asks with a frown on his face, marring his beautiful face with concern.

"They did ask me to go with them, I mean after all, now's the time when everyone's leaving for college. We're at that intersection where people depart for different directions and life dreams," she says. "But I didn't want to go, I would've rather stayed here for summer."

He kisses her nose. She wonders if he was even paying attention. Paying attention to her words, that is. He seems occupied by her face.

"You must think of me as lame," she laughs, looking away. "I mean, which teenager prefers to stay holed up at her grandma's house during the summer? I guess I'm an odd case."

"I don't think you're lame," he says, grabbing her chin to make her look at him. "I think you're mature and inspiring, Bella."

She remembers a time when she wasn't so 'mature and inspiring', according to Edward's words. She thinks of a time when she had fallen into the trap of her society. Where she mixed with the wrong crowd and got a real taste of the decadence surrounding her. The lack of authenticity. The smell of booze, sex and smoke. The taste of egoism and dissipation.

"I've changed a lot," she tells Edward as he strokes her cheek tenderly. "I've learnt. I used to be different. I used to be so naïve."

"We're all human and we make mistakes. What makes us brave and different is our ability to reason and critically think," he says, his wisdom flowing in. "We learn and that's what matters. The first time I met you, I could already tell how remarkable you truly are."

It's the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to Bella. She hears such encouragement on a rare basis. She feels empowered by Edward's words. She feels like a butterfly spreading her wings after being in the pupa stage for too long. She is blissful. She is loved.

Bella rolls over, pushing Edward back so that now she hovers over him. She kisses him, muting his surprised stuttering. Like two young lovers, they roll around on the bed, not doing much but doing just enough. They whisper gently, shielding their blossoming affection for each other away from the outside world.

* * *

**Sweetness! Tell me your thoughts, lovely people.  
**

**I also caved in and got a Twitter account (loveperpetually), I don't think of myself as too exciting anyhow.**

**Love, perpetually.**


	18. Bonfire

**Metamorphosis**

* * *

_Rules should always be bent, if not broken. It's the only way to have any fun._

_– Alyson Noel_

* * *

**17. Bonfire**

"Yo Bella! Long time no see!" Riley hollers.

They're at a birthday celebration for Jared. The usual crowd is lingering around. Bella has yet to meet everyone. There are too many faces. Jared clearly has a lot of friends, unless they're simply avid party-goers who don't care much about the birthday boy.

Bella stays by Edward's side as he nurses his beer. They'd bought a present for Jared, earlier in the day. At the insistence of Bella, she'd paid for their joint present of a guitar. Now Jared strums the strings of the instrument happily, opposite them, looking a little dazed and drunk with his folk music.

"My old one got smashed. Thanks for the new one," Jared had said when he'd unwrapped the present with a gleeful grin.

The house is buzzing with amusement and life as people walk around. Some are playing pool while others are making out against a wall. Suddenly, Bella feels arms around her shoulders and hair touching her face as she turns to see who it is.

"How you doing, girl?" Emily says, sidling up to Bella as Victoria approaches.

"So you two, huh," Victoria says, wiggling her eyebrows at Bella and Edward. Bella looks at Edward who is talking to the guy next to him, clearly not paying attention. She then looks back at Victoria and rolls her eyes playfully.

"Oh what are you complaining 'bout? He seems like the nicest guy on the _planet_," Emily giggles, taking a sip from her cup. "I wonder if they'll make Jared streak in the water this year."

Victoria suddenly giggles as she begins to speak with slurred words. "Oh Bella, you should've seen them last year. They were tackling each other in the water. We nearly got caught by the pole poles."

"Okay, I'm going to get her to a bathroom before she gets sick on me," Emily states, lifting Victoria up and slinging the girl's arms around her own neck. "We're going down to the beach later. You should come. Sometimes we skinny dip with the boys as well."

With a wink, Emily leaves. Bella finds her plate empty, having just finished some salad and a corn-dog. Edward's still talking to the boy next to him. Bella catches a few words that suggest a conversation revolving around mechanics, before she heads inside to grab some more food.

"Hey," a voice says, next to Bella.

She looks to her right and sees a blonde standing there. Her hair is curled in gentle waves. She's the epitome of poise, like the attendees of the parties Renee and Charlie host.

"Hello," Bella says. She doesn't know who the woman is, but she does know that this person looks elegantly beautiful.

"I'm Tanya," the woman says, sticking her hand out for Bella to shake. Bella mumbles her name and Tanya nods, a little too quickly. "So who's that?"

Tanya points to Edward as the two women end up staring at the side profile of Edward. He is backlit by the blaze of the bonfire. His hair shines a reddish color in front of the gigantic, dancing flames as he is slightly hunched over, deep in conversation. Once again, he is oblivious to the attention he is receiving.

"That's... Edward," Bella says after a minute's hesitation. She's not sure how to address him, or their relationship for that matter. They'd only been on one date so far. It doesn't necessarily mean they're dating.

"He's hot," Tanya states, bluntly.

Bella's confused about the purpose behind Tanya's words, as well as the whole point of the conversation. Is she asking these questions because she's simply curious, even though she's capable of going up to Edward and talking to him herself? Maybe she thought it'd be rude to steal Bella's seat (the now vacant spot next to Edward) while Bella went to get food.

"Is he single?" she asks Bella. Tanya decides to use this moment to clarify herself, "I'm from LA, actually. My friends got invited to this party last minute because they know Jared from school."

Tanya rambles about a road trip that her friends and her are taking, stating how this is just a momentary stop in the big scheme of their summer plan. At that moment, Edward decides to turn around and search for Bella. He sees her talking to the blonde but that doesn't stop him from ending his conversation with the guy next to him, Matt- hipster glasses and wavy hair- to go up to Bella.

Tanya's eyes widen before Bella feels Edward's touch. His hands seem to love snaking around her waist. He looks at the blue eyes of the person next to Bella as he tilts his head forward, greeting her. Tanya's a shrewd woman. But in this exact moment, she feels slightly humiliated. She rambled to Bella about how hot she thought Edward was. _He's probably her boyfriend_, Tanya angrily thinks. She excuses herself as she walks up the stairs, quickly leaving the conversation and in search for her friends.

Later that evening, the crowd of people find themselves by the beach. Due to loud, repetitive chants of the birthday boy's name, Jared strips down naked along with ten other guys who are clearly demonstrating their uttermost loyalty. _Comradery_, Bella smiles to herself. Emily and Victoria are nowhere in sight. Bella isn't sure if it's because Victoria was sick earlier or if the two had simply felt like they'd seen enough streaking for a lifetime.

With the waves splashing mercilessly at the wet sand, Bella's positive that the water's bound to be cold. Giggles and squeals fill the air with some of the men having the loudest screams Bella's ever heard of. She can't help but crack up. They're like children during Christmas, waiting for their presents with bouncing kneecaps, flooded with happiness and excitement.

"Wanna get naked in the water? Warm me up a bit," a guy says, from behind her. He's cupping his balls, as he eyes Bella suggestively. She notices that the guy's dripping wet and trembling from the cold.

She instinctively shrinks into Edward's side. The guy's smirk is wiped clean off of his face when he sees the murderous glare from Edward. The naked man mutters an apology and scrambles away, running away from the water. Instead, to his car.

As far as celebrations go, Bella thinks about how crazy this party has been. Under the dark blue blanket of the sky, which is nearly pitch black by now, the sky looms over the naked, dancing people.

They're like children in jumping castles. They're like children on swings, yearning to go as high as possible. They're like children meeting their pets for the first time, embedded with effortless laughter. They are many things.

They are the free.

* * *

**Hope y'all are having an outstanding day.**

**Love, perpetually.**


	19. Heartbeat

**Metamorphosis**

* * *

_I'll come and make love to you at five o'clock. If I'm late start without me._

_– Tallulah Bankhead_

* * *

**18. Heartbeat **

Edward and Bella break away from their kiss, both gasping for breath. She's still got her arms around him, her fingers curling the hair at the nape of his neck. His thumbs are brushing the undersides of her breasts, making her ticklish and shaky. They decided to stay in today, stay at Edward's place.

Edward had insisted on being at home, urging Bella to come over. He'd never provided an explanation but Bella had complied nonetheless. They now stand in the kitchen, baking. Edward in an apron. _What a sight_, Bella giggles to herself.

Elizabeth walks in slowly. She's clearly not feeling well. Her weak strides makes Bella frown with worry. Edward always refuses to comment on his mother and despite the inner frustration Bella feels every time Edward evades her question, she always manages to think around it. A mantra inside her head; _don't coerce people into telling you things they're not ready_ _to talk about_.

She hates it when Renee tries to dig into her head, pushing Bella to share her thoughts out loud. Then, criticizing her for not sharing the same values. It's hypocritical in all honesty; people can exhibit their hatred in various ways once they come to the realization that they're constantly being manipulated. Bella has no desire for Edward to hate her. She wants to talk to him- communicate with him- about things, when he's ready. She's not ready to talk about some things. So why should she push him into telling her about his autobiography?

"Smells wonderful!" Elizabeth exclaims, pressing a gentle kiss to Bella's cheek. "What are you two making?"

"Edward suggested brownies, so we're going with that," Bella says. At that moment, Edward sticks his chocolate-coated finger into his mouth and licks it. Bella gapes at him while Elizabeth says something about how unhygienic habits before sharing a look with Bella that seems to say, _boys will be boys_.

They spend all morning baking brownies (along with some cookies as well) and all afternoon watching _The Great Escape _and _Dial M for Murder_. It can easily be concluded that both Edward and Bella thoroughly enjoy old classics with great plots.

Soon, at the arrival of twilight, Edward and Bella decide to buy some groceries to make a homemade dinner. Bella starts to clean up the kitchen, putting the baking trays in the sink, when she hears whispering.

"Mom, will you be okay? We'll just be gone for half an hour, max," Edward says. "Call me immediately if you're not feeling well or-"

"Sweetie, we've run through this a thousand times. Your mother's a strong woman." Elizabeth says, sticking her chin up. Despite her thin frame, Elizabeth stands up tall and strong, looking unwavering.

Bella finds herself in Edward's car as they drive to the markets instead of walking. She offers to take the list of fresh fruits and vegetables while he heads to the frozen section. They agree to meet in the confectionery aisle later. Less than five minutes into her shopping, Bella receives a phone call.

"Mom," she greets, hearing shuffling from Renee on the other end.

"Darling, I hope you're not too busy right now. Your father and I are going to Mr and Mrs Kingsley's ball tonight. Do you think red looks good on me or black?" Renee asks. Bella has no doubt that Renee is currently staring admiringly at herself in the full-length mirror whilst calling her daughter.

Bella looks at her fingernails. She hears it all. Whether it's Renee's beauty or Bella's incompetence.

_"Renee's gorgeous! If only her daughter looked as beautiful..."_

_"Is that her daughter? She doesn't have her mother's elegance."_

_"Isabella, be on your best behavior for your parents."_

_"You don't want to embarrass them. They've worked hard for this."_

Bella clearly favored her father's phenotype, picking up Charlie's brown eyes and hazelnut-colored hair. She doesn't possess the shining, blue eyes of her mother. Although she was born blonde, her hair quickly morphed into the dark shade it is today.

"Are you still there? Red or black?" Renee asks.

"Black... it matches your hair and freckles," Bella says, rather faintly. She hangs up after bidding her mother a lovely time at the party.

Bella continues to put items into her basket. She's glad that she's in Forks, otherwise she'd be parading all over town to go to parties with her parents, at their insistence.

"It's good to present to the people how strong of a united front we are. A family," Charlie had once told Bella, kissing the top of her head.

She shakes that thought away as she heads to the confectionery aisle to meet Edward. She finds him already there. He has a bouquet of flowers in his hands. She smiles.

"For you," he says, kissing her lips.

Despite the limited range of ready-made bouquets being sold in the supermarket, Edward made a beautiful selection. She can't help but smile and hug him, muttering her appreciation for him in a shy but resolute voice.

They end up checking out and placing the paper bags in the boot of the car. She puts the flowers on the backseat. Bella starts to feel her head spin. She'll be leaving soon for college. Summer will just be the past. What will happen between her and Edward? Will they do this long-distance thing? Perhaps, their relationship will crack under pressure and vaporize like the transience of smoke from a chimney.

"What is this?" she asks, cautiously. They sit in the parking lot.

"Us?" he asks, facing forward. She nods, knowing he can see her from his periphery.

"We're dating," he simply says. "Unless, you don't want to... you know, date me."

There's a soft glow on Edward's cheeks. She sees him blushing slightly and feels her heart give a little tap dance. Slowly leaning over, she places a plethora of kisses on his face. Supplying him with reassurance. Commitment. Her hand leisurely slides onto his leg and moves upward. He gives a little yelp.

"Bella, what are you doing?"

She can hear the nervous quiver in his voice.

No cars are around them. No people surround them.

_I want him_. Such a thought makes Bella's heart race. She feels her breath come out a little quicker. Suddenly, he's leaning over and grabbing her face with his hands. He runs his fingers in her hair as she tries to press closer to him. They kiss passionately and fumble around. The flowers sit soundlessly in the backseat.

He groans out a single word. "Bella."

She continues to pant as he grabs her by the waist and pulls her over to sit on top of him. She moves slightly, feeling him grow still. A growl emits from Edward's lips as she feels him harden beneath her. It makes blood rush to her skin. She can't help but grind against him. She has no idea what she's doing. Neither does he.

She burns for him. He yearns for her.

Her hands are desperate to touch him. His hands are splayed across her back as he pushes his face into her chest, pressing loving kisses onto the cleavage of her breasts. She moans as she finds her nether regions burning relentlessly.

It is now her turn to moan out a singular word. Pleading. "Edward."

His lips return to hers as their tongues dance vehemently, mimicking each other's moves. Their heartbeats are like the steady beating of drums, humming a rhythmic tune. They can taste each other's ardor. Fervor and cravings. But suddenly the dancing stops. Almost like the music has ended.

"Bella, stop. We can't," he says with all the restraint left in him. She's still sitting on top of his erection. He can feel himself dying to be closer to her. To lay her naked body underneath him and kiss every inch of her.

She pulls back to stare at him. Questions flood her eyes, along with subtle hurt.

"I just don't want our first time to be in a car," Edward says, begging her to understand. He presses soft kisses on her jaw and one on her forehead.

"I'm not that breakable," Bella says, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes.

"Baby, don't cry. I just want to make you feel good," he whispers, in her ear, with as much conviction he can summon. "I want to make love to you."

She leans onto his chest as his arms circle securely around her. He kisses certitude and promises. He kisses the words, love and always. He finds himself falling for her. He's scared and a little panicked. She finds herself at his mercy. Tucking herself safely into his warmth, they sit there.

Their heartbeats race in unison like the synchronized ticking of clock hands.

* * *

**Are we liking this Edward?**

**Love, perpetually.**


	20. Her

**Metamorphosis**

* * *

_The two most important days in your life are the day you are born and the day you find out why. _

_– Mark Twain_

* * *

**19. Her**

Her head lolls from side to side as her dreaming takes her to different places. She sees things. She can feel it all.

_"Yes, Bella. Keep on going," he cries as she sits on top of him, bouncing up and down. _

_The bedsprings move in harmony with the actions of the two embracing figures. He's inside of her, making her melt and boil at the same time. She's coming apart yet she's never felt so together._

_"Please, Edward."_

_She's panting, begging. She yearns for him to go faster. Harder. He complies, plunging into her. Their bodies slap against each other as they stare into each other's eyes. _

_She's arching back as he takes a nipple into his mouth, flicking it quickly with his tongue. In and out. His attention is then given to the other nipple. He goes back and forth between each of her breasts. Lips sucking unremittingly._

_He feels her clenching around him. She's close. He can feel the sound of waves clashing in his ears as he realizes he's going to come any minute. She pulses around him as he becomes undone. She sees lightning. Hears thunder. Feels bliss. _

_"I love you," he asserts. All she can do is slowly catch her breath._

She jerks awake, feeling tightness between her legs. Warmth oozing and desire surging. She's just had a fantasy about Edward during her afternoon nap. She checks the digits on her alarm clock and sees that it's a quarter past five, meaning that she has forty-five minutes to get ready before Edward's picking her up again. They're going on their second date. She's ecstatic.

* * *

"Well, I figured, your favorite food is sushi, so why not?"

They sit at a table, opposite each other. It's a modern sushi place in Port Angeles.

"That's thoughtful of you," Bella remarks before placing a piece of salmon, topped with some wasabi, into her mouth.

"You look stunning tonight," he says, holding her hand over the table. His sweetness grants him the privilege of seeing Bella endlessly blushing.

"I'll turn into a tomato before the end of this date," she says.

She wears lilac as her skirt and silk as her top. Peter Pan collars are apparently on-trend, so she's glad that they are existent on her shirt. She can't stop her eyes from studying Edward, top to bottom. Beautiful. His casualness encourages her to relax and just _be_. His personality induces her megawatt smile. In return, her natural kindness triggers his own dazzling, crooked grin. He thinks of how lucky he is to have her.

"You're different, you know," she says. "Different to all the other guys I've met."

He is curious. "Good or bad different?"

"Good, of course. You're unique. You don't care what other people think of you. There's goodness in your heart that I don't sometimes see in others."

She feels sappy for saying all those clichéd lines. But every cell in her body knows that it's true. She wouldn't lie to him if it wasn't real.

"Tell me, where do you live that is so awful, making you think so highly of me?" Edward chuckles. "Believe me, Bella, I'm not the best guy out there. I've done some things in the past that I'm not... exactly proud of. You deserve so much more."

"I don't want the best guy out there. All I want is you," she says, firmly. She hopes to annihilate his self-deprecation. She continues, "I've just grown up seeing a lot."

His eyebrows rise, she can see an inquisitive expression settling on his face. "What have you seen, Bella?"

_What if he thinks differently of me after all this?_ She nervously thinks. To accept someone is to love their flaws as well as their fine points. But even Bella can't help the worry that seizes her throat.

She takes a deep breath. She knows she should tell Edward. They're dating. She doesn't want to wake up one day and regret not sharing a part of her that has been entrenched so deeply and fully within her. Even parts of her that she isn't fond of.

"My parents, Renee and Charlie Swan, they don't like to sink down to other people's levels. I don't think my father even knows what it's like to be poor or truly _work hard _for money that I see others struggle to get. My mother wasn't born into luxury but she earned it well by marrying my father. Renee's a very astute woman. She can turn anything you say into an advantage for herself."

She looks at Edward, hoping to see he hasn't been scared off already. He looks normal. Edward's intrigued by her story.

"On my father's side, my great-grandfather founded _Swan Inc. _which-"

"Wait, that's your father's company?" Edward asks, shocked. "You mean... your family owns a multinational pharmaceutical company?"

She doesn't know how to answer his question so she chooses to approach it in a different way. "Well, Charlie's not the oldest. So in some sense, my grandfather's going to give more control to my uncle, Clarence. Firstborn and a natural leader, that man is."

Edward slowly nods. He looks down at his lap, staggering to come to terms with what Bella has just told him. He knew Bella was somewhat wealthy, at least much wealthier than his own downtrodden self, but he didn't know just by how much. She definitely didn't exemplify the stereotypical rich girl.

"I see the amount of human greed that can possess people. My parents are business people. Though I don't talk about shares and the stock market with them or how much they earn every year, I know that when business deals go wrong, people turn on each other. They sacrifice their morals for personal gain.

"The true nature of who they are and what they want comes to light. People want money, fame, wealth. They want status. And with such status, there comes the need to present an image of _perfection _wherever one goes.

"And that is what I hate the most. Pretending to be someone I'm not. Otherwise, I would be an embarrassment. An outlier."

Bella finishes speaking. A curtain of silence falls between the two. Edward looks at Bella's hunched figure. He knows it's tough for her to say so much about her private life. He can see the turmoil in her troubled eyes as they battle with her sense of duty and desire.

"I think you turned out alright," he says, deep in thought. "As in, you could've turned out much worse for such a privileged, rich kid."

"So I'm a kid now?" she asks, laughing.

"Well, you're younger than me. So yes," he says and smiles. Edward pulls her hand closer before pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "You're so beautiful. Inside and out, Bella."

As they continue to eat the exotic pieces of sushi and various plates of seafood in front of them, Edward can't help but feel a deep shame of inadequacy wash over him.

* * *

**What do you think of this Bella now? Poor Edward and his emotions.**

**Love, perpetually.**


	21. Help

**Metamorphosis**

* * *

_Start where you are. Use what you have. Do what you can. _

_– Arthur Ashe_

* * *

**20. Help  
**

"I feel like I haven't spent enough time with you," Bella says, remorsefully. She's sitting with Marie as they eat breakfast together.

"Honey, it's good that you're finally enjoying summer with a boy than mope around like every other year," Marie says, kissing Bella on the forehead.

"I know, I just feel bad though," Bella pushes.

"Don't feel bad. Run along now, I know Edward's waiting for you."

At half past ten, Bella finds herself knocking on the door of the little blue house. Edward greets her, giving a good, knee-buckling kiss to start the day off. They prefer to hang around Edward's place, just because Elizabeth hasn't been feeling too well lately.

"My mom's still in bed," Edward says to Bella. "She's usually awake by now, but sometimes she's feeling more tired than usual."

His gaze is no longer trained on Bella. Instead, he's looking beyond her and into the empty air behind her head. Although she's told Edward much of her own personal life, Edward has yet to talk about his. Elizabeth is practically a no-bounds area; he refuses to comment on her. Bella can't help but wonder why.

It's still early in the day so children's shows dominate the television channels. Familiar nursery rhymes and songs fill Bella's ears, making her beam. But instead of her mother next to her, Bella remembers a smiling Camille sitting with her, as she would watch morning cartoons religiously at a younger age.

"And you say you're not a kid," Edward chuckles as he stands with his arms crossed, watching Bella come to life in front of the musical television.

She gives him her best pout as he walks over to sit behind her on the floor, pulling her to lean back on his chest.

"Should we check on Elizabeth?" Bella asks, a few minutes later. Together, they walk into Elizabeth's room, pushing the creaking door open. Elizabeth lifts her head slightly when she sees Edward and Bella walk in but Edward immediately notices something is amiss.

"Mom, oh no," he says, as he pushes the curtains aside, allowing sunlight to stream in.

Elizabeth's skin is discolored. With the natural sunlight coming in, Bella can see the sclera of the woman's eyes clearer. Bella's great aunt had suffered with this. She had ended up needing surgery to remove the tumor in the head of the pancreas. The yellow pigmentation on Elizabeth's skin says it all.

"Jaundice," Bella breathes.

* * *

They sit together at the hospital. It's not an ideal place to be and it's definitely not where moods of worried people are lifted, unless it's simply good news. Edward has his head between his hands as he leans on his knees. Since rushing to the hospital, he hasn't spoken much to Bella.

The medical staff is currently assessing Elizabeth, with Dr Carlisle Cullen heading the team. He briefly shook Edward's hand, asking him a series of questions about his mother, before reassuring him that the diligent staff will take good care of her.

They spend the next few hours at the hospital. They occasionally talk to Elizabeth while she's waiting to do her MRI scan, but mostly, they just let her rest. Bella realizes the fragility of Elizabeth's state. She notices how lifeless the woman's eyes look.

They spend the next few days at the hospital, visiting Elizabeth who has been advised to stay under the care of the hospital. She undergoes multiple tests but it takes a while for a proper diagnosis to be concluded, as Carlisle suspects it is much worse than jaundice.

As Bella and Edward wait for Carlisle to appear outside Elizabeth's room, a few days later, Bella feels dread gushing through her veins.

Carlisle soon approaches them and to Bella's surprise, Edward tells her to stay with him while Carlisle speaks. She was so sure that he would push her away, needing the distance, but his hand on her forearm tells her otherwise.

"Edward, I'm so sorry to tell you this," Carlisle says, staring empathetically into Edward's eyes. "We've done a urinalysis for bile and extracted a blood sample. The MRI results have also provided sufficient evidence. Your mother, Elizabeth Masen, has advanced pancreatic cancer."

Silence engulfs the three of them. Nobody speaks. It takes a couple of minutes before Carlisle bravely breaks the silence.

"It is highly likely that it's causing a secondary cancer in her lungs and liver due to the metastatic nature of the disease. It means that the cancer has spread quite rapidly through the bloodstream to other organs."

He gives Edward a moment to catch up. Bella feels Edward tense beside her; her neck feels stiff too. He lifts his hand up and run it through his hair, wanting to scream but knowing he can't. He'll cause a scene in the middle of the hospital.

"We see many people always blaming themselves for not recognizing the early symptoms of the cancer but such symptoms can be rather vague," Carlisle states. "You did mention that she is often tired and has occasional pains in her stomach and back, causing her to sometimes feel very full despite not eating much."

Edward nods, numbed by everything. He had been told that it would go away, with many doctors not seeing any distinguishable clues. After all, Elizabeth had digestion problems during most of Edward's childhood; many said it was due to stress. It definitely had credence. Stress in his household was incredibly high.

Shaking at night. Panicked. Eyes wide, but it wasn't him who possessed the predatory glare of an alligator. Instead, he was the prey. Edward shakes his thoughts away.

Carlisle continues, looking at Edward to ensure he's speaking at a suitable pace. "Jaundice is also another major symptom but it has only just come up now. The cancer has caused pressure on the bile duct, resulting in a blockage. We're thinking of placing a stent in the bile duct, allowing the flow of the bile into the bowel properly, once more."

Bella remembers learning something about stents and bile ducts in biology class. _The duct is a specific channel that transports bile from the liver to a part of the small intestine_, Bella remembers.

"It's the best option as of yet and a rather simple procedure, utilizing ERCP-"

Abruptly, Edward holds up his hand. His eyes are apologetic. "Sorry, I need a minute. Just to take all of this in."

"Take all the time you need. Call me when you're ready."

Carlisle smiles understandingly at Edward before extending that smile to Bella. He then walks back into Elizabeth's room.

Edward sits down. He's shaking. Bella touches his arm gently. The man she finds herself loving more and more with each passing day stares at her blankly. He's a lost boy who aches for his mother. He looks at Bella. She sees petrified frustration and silent melancholy.

She, however, doesn't know that he feels weakness in his unshed tears. She doesn't know he feels shame and anger and devastation for his past and for his future. She doesn't know about his resistance to his tears, how hard he's trying to hold it all in. But even he can't fight being human.

He collapses into her arms.

His tears endless.

* * *

**Did you expect all this? Hurdles in life can be painful. Take care, lovely people.**

**Love, perpetually.**


	22. Smoke

**Metamorphosis**

* * *

_We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light. _

_– Plato_

* * *

**21. Smoke**

Edward stares at the sleeping form of his mother from the foot of her bed.

"He's gone. That _fucker_ is gone and I'm learning to forgive you. Why now?"

His frustration pounds through the back of his skull as his hands grip the railing of the hospital bed. He feels like he can almost crush the metal, turning it into fine particles of dust underneath his fingertips.

"Why," he demands, softer this time.

* * *

Sitting on a chair in her bedroom, Bella flips open her laptop and types in keywords, pancreatic and cancer, into the search engine. Her eyes move up and down with the cursor on the screen. The scroll bar moves with impatient grace as she bites her bottom lip. Her heart palpitates.

She remembers the first time she'd visited Edward's house. His uncertainty towards her. Their dinner, lasagne it was, to which Elizabeth had refused to have any. She remembers subsequent occasions where Elizabeth would complain of how her appetite just wasn't there. She'd said she wasn't hungry. She remembers thinking of how thin Elizabeth initially looked, compared to her earlier photos. She feels a headache swooshing into her head the more she thinks about it. She remembers familiar words.

_"You don't ever care about your surroundings. It's time to grow up, Isabella. You're not a child anymore," Renee had angrily stated. It wasn't the first time Renee had spat out words of a frustrated parent. "You're going to bring shame sooner or later."_

_Stop it_, Bella orders. Clenched teeth, tight fists. She distracts herself by quickly changing out of her pajamas and heading to the bathroom to get ready. After reading a text from Edward, that informed her he was already at the hospital, Bella decides to ride on her favorite, pink bicycle that hasn't been touched in years. As she pedals, she feels the wind on her face. But she finds no relief. She realizes that this reality is too hard to escape from. She can feel his pain from so far away.

She finds Edward standing outside the hospital as she places her bicycle into one of the slots of the bike racks. He has a cigarette between his fingers.

"I didn't know you smoke," she says, approaching him. There's something missing in his eyes. He looks cold. As if he's a stranger, as if he doesn't recognize her. She cowers back a little as his steely gaze greets her. The once jubilant, emerald coloring of his eyes morph into cool, lime-green metal. There's an edge to his stare.

It's like he's testing her. Daring her to come forward.

She feels conflicted. Sometimes she wonders if Edward has issues with his mood-swings. Other days, she thinks it's perhaps he has troubles expressing his feelings. He's a tormented soul, filled with loud silence. It's something she's familiar with. She's grown up being treated like a china doll. _Seen but not heard_, they say.

"A situational smoker," he says, eerily, not even blinking.

"What's wrong, Edward? Why are you... acting like this?"

"I'm not doing anything, Bella," he says, taken aback by her accusation. But she hears it loudly, she sees it clearly. Like the lies her parents tell. Like the fibs of businessmen who try to save their own backsides in times of economical hardships. Bella can see what he's doing.

"You're putting distance between us," she says, sounding weaker than she hoped. "Don't push me away, Edward. Please. I know this is hard for you."

He inhales and exhales from his cigarette. Ethereal chains of smoke float around his face like a transparent veil. He looks at Bella as he stands up, walking straight up to her. He towers over Bella.

He then surprises her, knocking her into his wings like a guardian angel. But it's not soft, it's crushing. He roughly presses his lips to hers, grasping Bella by the hips as he drinks in her kisses. It's bruising and it's fierce. It's like he's sucking _life_ out of her. She can feel her chest being crashed against his. His lips continue attacking hers; he's holding her a little too tightly.

She stumbles backwards as the smoky taste of his aggression singes her lips.

"You know," he starts, looking thoughtfully at the sky. He's unfazed by her confused and fiery glare. "You don't know _anything_ about struggle. You don't know whether this is _hard or not_. You don't know my mother, you don't know anything about me."

They're alone outside. Having a stand-off. But she remembers something. Something inauspicious in a dream she once had about Edward. It wasn't a good one.

_"You know what I mean. You can tell me, you know," Bella insists. _

_"You don't understand," he says, coolly. She drops her hand as he strides away._

He seethes, breaking her away from her memories. "You're just a rich girl using her parents' money. You don't know shit. You're just like everyone else." He doesn't stop. "Did you know that after Kate got together with Garrett, she changed as well? Turned into an airhead who could only find comfort in breast implants and designer clothes."

Bella shakes her head, adamantly. "You know I'm not like that, Edward. I told you already. I told you about myself."

"For all I know, some things could be true. Others could just be one big deception. At the end of the summer, you could go back to your sparkling mansion and pretend none of this happened," Edward says. "I'm sure college guys will give you one hell of a ride. They do know how to fuck."

She feels like she's slapped in the face. She doesn't know what happens next. But her palm connects with his cheek, leaving a stinging patch of pink anger on his face. He looks like an untamed bull at this stage. Yet, he doesn't seem to realize that Bella has just slapped him.

He just continues to speak. "I wonder. If I hadn't met you, hadn't spent so much time with you, would I have realized when my own mother started to become so severely ill..."

Bella cannot believe what he's saying. _He's accusing me of-... _her thoughts struggle to comprehend the magnitude of hatred behind his words.

"How _dare _you? I tell you everything about my life and you use it against me. You don't tell me anything about yourself. You hardly even tell me anything about Elizabeth. Whenever I ask why you have to leave or what's wrong, you just avoid every single question," she yells, her arms gesturing wildly to her prove her point.

"For your information, she has regular check-ups and there are times when she calls me because she's not feeling well and needs help..." his voice falters near the end. A resolute expression is pasted on his face a millisecond later.

"How can you understand? Why would you _even_ understand?" Edward continues. She can hear the break in his voice.

He is helplessness but she is hopefulness.

Bella walks closer to him as he closes his eyes. His fists are clenched by his sides. He can't touch her. He'll hurt her too much. He'll also probably never let her go.

"I've never felt the way I do when I'm with you, Edward. You make me feel alive. Loved. Cherished," she says, softly. She's hopeful. She wants to ease his anger. She wants to save him.

For a minute, both of them don't talk. Bravery is branded on her skin.

"I'm falling for you." Her fragile whisper echoes with his accelerating heart.

His eyes meet hers and for a split second she sees unguarded surprise. She sees a flicker of bewilderment and a touch of gentleness that longs to reciprocate. It's fleeting, however.

He looks away coldly. "You don't know what love is."

She touches his arm gently, shaking him awake. He looks at her. It's like seeing an angel and the devil at the same time. She has turned his world upside down, tilted its axis and erupted so many bottled feelings that have been dormant within his very soul.

He grabs her upper arms and pulls her into another searing kiss. Her arms are locked by her side, giving him all the control. He aggressively kisses her, as if he's telling her that she's wrong. He's proving to her that she can't love him. His lips collide with hers repeatedly. He doesn't give her air, he just gives her him. She smells, tastes and feels all of him... but it feels wrong. It's not love, it's hunger and dread and finality. He offers her no choice, no opinion. He controls it all; showing her what he is capable of. He doesn't want to destroy her, he'll prevent it before it happens. He'll resist this one time, he won't resist anymore.

His deathly whisper sends chills down her spine.

"I could break you. And you still wouldn't know what love is."

She feels wetness rolling down in teardrops onto her flushed cheeks. "Why are you doing this? Everything was going so well."

"Everything until now," he remarks. There is no remorse in his voice. She questions if this is the same man she's dreamt of. The same man who makes her heart skip a beat and her lips tremor. The same man who treats her with soft benevolence.

"I'm toxic to you and you're poison to me," he says, stumping the cigarette bud on the concrete ground. She takes one last look at him, trying to reminisce about the good memories. The laughs, moans and smiles. But it all fades away in comparison to what he has just said. What they have just established. Every good that they've had vaporizes into thin air; its existence no longer a priority.

This time, she's the one that walks away.

He stands there like a statue that has lost its single admirer.

* * *

******Storm clouds and silly, young adults in love.** What are we all thinking about? 

**I tweet like a little birdie sometimes (username: loveperpetually). Have a great day, lovely people.**

**Love, perpetually.**


	23. Traces

**Metamorphosis**

* * *

_It is easy to live for others, everybody does. I call on you to live for yourself. _

_― Ralph Waldo Emerson_

* * *

**22. Traces **

Sunlight quickly morphs into midnight through the passing of each day whilst midnight feels like nightmares. She wakes up occasionally, gasping for breath with horrific images behind her eyelids. Some include Edward smashing her into pieces on the ground, with his feral growl, like a broken vase. Whilst others consist of him taunting her and chasing her in a dark maze.

Despite the fragmented nature of dreams, she always finds herself waking up with a sweaty forehead and a rapid heartbeat. Consistently. Night after night.

"Are you okay?" her grandmother asks her, during lunch one day. They sit, looking outside the backyard, as they eat Marie's homemade sandwiches.

Bella shrugs. She's numb. She hasn't been to the hospital in a week now, Edward made her unwanted presence very clear. After their confrontation, the two of them hadn't spoken a word to each other. Perhaps they're both stubborn, lacking an effective communication channel. Or they're just both damaged individuals, traveling on their own solitary roads.

"You're not around... _him _anymore," Marie says, gently. Bella made it clear that she didn't want to hear his name being used in the house anymore. She was and still is deeply hurt by the things Edward said.

_I think we definitely broke up_, Bella comments to herself.

She finds herself living out the type of summery days that existed before she met him. The days of summer where she just keeps to herself and enjoy the quiet life. She never had so much of an adventure before in Forks, but he changed all that. But now that all traces of what he had been and what she had loved have simultaneously disappeared, she finds her mood dropping quicker than a plummeting parachutist in the sky.

Except her parachute isn't opened. She's falling... falling... down onto the muddy earth. She hopes she can pick herself up again.

That is when the call comes, one day, under the grey clouds of Forks. Under the roof of Marie's house, Bella receives her usual phone call from her parents. She doesn't expect the next words of her parents; she'd simply lost track of time in the midst of her dalliance with Edward.

"We're back home, honey! You should come back now, we already miss you, baby," Renee coos into the phone. "We can book your plane tick-"

Bella looks down at her lap as she angrily hisses. "Mom, I can do that myself! Let me breathe for a minute here."

"Don't use that tone of voice on your mother, young lady. Did Edward teach you all that?" Charlie says. Bella didn't know she was on loud speaker, but she does now. "Great influence from that kid..."

She wants to defend Edward in front of her parents' brazen analysis of him. They don't know a thing about him, apart from the minimal details Bella had fed them. But she waits a few seconds... and she doesn't say anything. She recalls his cold eyes boring into her soul. She grimaces with a shiver.

"Speaking of Edward, will he be coming to New York with you?" Renee perks up.

"No mom, he's rather busy right now," Bella says, her mind thinking back to Elizabeth's state. She'd read online that stage four of pancreatic cancer was very hard to treat and there wasn't much of a guarantee for survival. Bella feels her heart plunging into the dark vortex of quiet distress.

_Is it... all my fault... _Bella's thoughts race in her head. Questions loop around her neck, strangling her. At the mere thought of all that has happened in the days after their second date up till now, she finds herself sobbing. She clutches her chest at the sound of her heart ripping apart. She can feel tissue breaking from tissue.

"Bella? Are you crying?" her father's alarmed voice asks. "Did something happen... what did he do to you?"

"He d-didn't do anything," Bella says. "I'm just really fond of this place. Forks is nice."

There's silence on the other end as Bella imagines her parents sharing worried looks and mouthing silently to each other. She hates being left in the dark. But this time, she wants to keep the flowing tears as a personal matter for herself. She wants to float away sulkily in her bubble of seclusion.

"Honey," Renee says, warily, trying to calm Bella down. "Look, your father and I are deeply worried about you. We think it's best you come home. What has my mom been doing about all this? I think you're homesick."

"Grandma has been lovely, mom. She's been very understanding." Bella bites back, defensively.

"I was just asking," Renee says, stoically. "Well, this is how I see fit, we give you another day at Forks, and then you're coming back home. Does that sound good, baby?"

Bella sighs into her phone. It's obvious that she has no voice. No opinion in this matter. No contribution to this issue. She whispers a quiet agreement. Her parents must feel proud about the ever-present obedience in their daughter.

"Well, we'll leave you to pack then," Renee chirps from the other side of the phone call. "We have a ball in a few days. It'll be like welcoming you back after not seeing your parents for a while. A homecoming."

Bella doesn't say anything and Renee uses this cue to take her leave.

"Bye sweetie," she says. The phone call ends and all Bella feels is uncertainty for the unknown that lies in front of her. The things between Edward and her. The things between her parents. College. Everything is a pile of darkness and confusion.

But one thing's clear. She's going back home.

* * *

"The stent seems to be working well," Dr Carlisle Cullen says to Edward. "We're looking at chemotherapy for your mother right now, it can slow the growth of the cancer but it doesn't necessarily mean... it can cure it."

Edward nods his head. He's calmer now, having done some breathing exercises that one of the nurses suggested to him. Sally Johnson, a middle-aged woman. She had taken a liking to the reclusive boy who would sit next to his mother at the hospital. When they initially started talking, she suggested a few handy life-tips, which he gratefully accepted.

"How long..." Edward says. "How long does she have?"

"It really varies from people to people. Sometimes, miracles happen but sometimes they don't," Carlisle says. "But for this stage in the cancer, a few months would be the-"

"A _few _months!" Edward exclaims in horror. Carlisle falls silent, waiting for Edward to come to terms with such news.

"There is still hope, Edward. By providing her with optimum living conditions and constantly showing her how strong she is, it can make a big difference to patients. I suggest both of you to talk to a psycho-oncologist as well. It can supplement you with a clearer picture and how to adjust to the illness."

Edward doesn't have anything to say back. They stand outside Elizabeth's room. Edward looks through the glass window, through the blinds and at Elizabeth who is asleep again. He feels like a lone man standing on a mountaintop, with the harsh snow hitting his face. He's lost, tired and unsure. He could jump or he could walk back. Take a leap of faith or drown in the depth of his despair.

He then thinks of _her_. He pushed her away. Saying she was poisonous to him. Telling her how wretched she was. His chest tightens at the thought of her tears. All of a sudden, he feels like crying. Everything pales in comparison to the well-being of his mother and the panicked love he feels for Bella. He knows he feels so many conflicting emotions for Bella. Things he's never felt for anyone else, not even Kate.

But he's inadequate. He's not good for her. He's a man of scars and troubles. Anger and mixed signals. She's pristine and divine; an angel from heaven. He's the tainted soul of evil and disgust. She'd once told him not to be so self-deprecating, but he can't help it. He's heard everything during the years that have made him grow into the man he is now. He's been touched and mangled into pieces beyond recognition. There's things he still can't talk about. Not with her, not with anyone. She's pure, he's soiled. It just wouldn't work.

She made Elizabeth so happy. He's never seen his mother so lively before. An angry scowl is etched on his face as he finds troubles expressing himself and accepting the overwhelming emotions he feels. But when he recognizes something true, he definitely knows it to be true. _Bella is something true_, he internally says, catching himself in a mirage of memories again. _She's virtuous... I'm glad I didn't get to ruin her_.

He did the right thing.

* * *

"I'm sorry," Bella says.

Marie smiles at her grandchild, shaking her head. "Dear, what are you sorry for? Don't worry, it was nice spending time with my favorite grandchild."

"I'm your only one," Bella says. Marie only had one child, Renee, who only had one child as well, Bella. But on Bella's paternal side, her grandparents got quite a few grandchildren. Those from Clarence and his wife, Irina.

Clarence and Charlie also have two younger sisters, Makenna and Gabrielle. Among the two sisters or her aunties, Bella found herself getting a few more cousins. Some she got along with well while the others, it was like talking to Jessica Stanley all over again. But Bella's aware that the conservative mindset of her paternal grandfather, William, will never see his two daughters fit to run the family business.

"The male Swan," the old man had stated loudly. "That's what's most important."

Needless to say, he wasn't very happy with Charlie and Renee's decision to only have one child. To add insult to injury, the child was also a baby girl and to William Swan, it definitely didn't mean good news. There was no son sired by Charlie.

Bella would often wonder why William and Mary, his wife, even had children after the two boys, Clarence and Charlie. Perhaps they were scared that if something happened to their two boys, all would be lost. However, she knew William had fathered at least one love child, if not many more than that. There's bound to be a few illegitimate Swans out there, getting financial support from William, and reminding Mary of his reckless unfaithfulness.

Cheating was hardly looked down upon. They were great, wealthy men who had the power of lightning blazing from their fingertips. Destruction and hurt was not new, it was the standard. That was how money was made. However, Charlie and Renee had married out of love. That was one good thing Bella looked up to her parents for. They'd fought hard for William's approval. It just had to have been true love.

Sometimes Bella would question if that was why William gave so much power to his eldest as Clarence had three children, all of them being strong, healthy boys. It also didn't hurt that he had obediently listened to his father's wishes when William arranged for him to marry the heiress, Irina. However, Charlie never treated Bella differently from his nephews. He never exhibited any disappointment or ruefulness.

Spending time with her paternal grandparents was definitely an ordeal compared to the concept of spending relaxed, summery days with Marie. But now that Bella's leaving, to go back to her world, she groans at the mere thought of running in her family circles again. Fortunately, Bella won't be getting an overdose of seeing everyone in one go as they all stayed in various places; it was always small encounters here and there in different cities.

"It's been really fun, grandma," Bella says, cuddling with Marie. Renee had phoned Bella earlier to tell her that her flight would leave at half past two in the afternoon. With her suitcases packed, Bella spends her last few hours with her beloved grandmother.

Bella had tried dialing Edward's phone number but all she got was his voicemail. She spent many hours thinking about whether he was deliberately ignoring her or trying to prove his point about whatever they had being of no importance to him. _You've got to be stronger than this, Bella_, her thoughts echo in her head.

"If he... Edward... comes to see you or if you bump into each other," Bella says to Marie. "Tell him that I wish him all the best in his future endeavors."

It sounds like such a formal statement. A heartless farewell. Passionless and empty. But, he's made her like this, he's made her say it. She can very well leave a note on the door of the blue house but she avoids looking in that direction, despite the difficulty of accomplishing such a task as it's directly opposite. She doesn't even know if Edward's been home or not for the past few days. But she's sure that he's spending hours at the hospital. He'd do that for his mother.

She can also text him, but she doesn't want to waste her words. He's burnt her, unrelentingly. She settles on a single word, if she's to text him at all.

Marie nods her head, sadly. "I wish it didn't have to come to this, dear. I'm sure you two will resolve whatever you're dealing with."

As Bella gets in a taxi, she waves goodbye to her grandmother. Sitting in the car and waiting to go to the airport to catch her flight that would span over the duration of six or so hours, Bella looks glumly out of the window. The passing branches reflect on the glass. Through the exterior of the car window, the reminders of nature dance across her face, illustrating everything she's about to leave behind. She looks beautiful in that very moment. Sad, hurt and empty. But beautiful.

As she zooms out of Edward's life and back to the city she's grown up in, Edward stays at the hospital, talking gently to Elizabeth. He is oblivious to the final text Bella has sent to him on his cell phone which lights up in the shadows of the little, blue house that Bella has since avoided eye contact with. Despite it being afternoon, the curtains are drawn, only letting in minimal amounts of daylight.

_Goodbye_, the text reads.

His phone has been untouched for days. As the final puff of battery is extinguished without a trace, the screen switches back to black to join in with the rest of the darkness in the house that once saw so much life.

* * *

**Thanks for reading. **

**Love, perpetually.**


	24. Ache

**Metamorphosis**

* * *

_It is hard enough to remember my opinions, without also remembering my reasons for them._

_― Friedrich Nietzsche_

* * *

**23. Ache  
**

Her plane touches down. She opens her eyes as the announcements roll on. The stewardess talks about the local weather and time before bidding everyone a fun holiday, business affair or return back home.

"I'm back home," Bella mutters to herself.

Eleazar Franklin meets her outside the arrival gate, greeting the young woman and asking how her holiday had been. Bella only mutters a few words, even though she feels pleased to be in the presence of her familiar chauffeur again. Eleazar's job is to drive Bella wherever she desires. Often, she'd take late night car rides around the streets of New York just to get away from the suffocating atmosphere at home.

She'd feel safe, alone and peaceful. She's a night owl and a creature of constant worrying. She's relaxed when she floats in the midnight breeze but she's also a lost and forgotten soul, yearning to find an accepting place. The evening air laps at Bella's face as she rolls down the window.

From the rear-view mirror inside the black car, a Rolls-Royce Phantom, Eleazar catches a quick glimpse of the brunette sitting on the leather seat. Her eyes wander, reflecting the city lights as they pass through tall buildings and night life. He sees nostalgia buried deep inside her. He sees secrets and stories. Floating in her head like a sequence of dream-like events.

"Are my parents home?" Bella asks, quietly.

"Yes, they are waiting for you, Miss Swan."

Despite her always telling Eleazar to call her Isabella to which she had now changed to Bella, notifying him when they hugged at the airport, the fifty-four year old man still liked to refer to Bella by her family name. Smile lines would be etched on his face every time he'd call her that. When he'd smile, it made Bella smile too.

Bella finds herself napping as her head gently swings with the rotations of the wheels underneath the car. With every sway, she feels herself diving into unwanted memories. Unwanted emotions and unpleasant feelings. She sees cold, green eyes. She sees a rigid, unwelcoming figure. She sees bronze hair that doesn't remind her of love or warmth. It just reminds her of cold, sturdy metal.

And as the memories continually flood her head, teardrops fall onto her smooth skin. They scorch her pores. They bloodshot her eyes. They make her struggle for breath.

Eleazar looks away.

* * *

He pulls open the car door for her. She steps out, rather tentatively. It's all that she knows. Family, wealth and honor. She's no longer wearing cut-off jean shorts. No more baseball t-shirts. The fragrance of summer only lingers on her skin for a little bit before the scent of expensiveness obliterates it all. She's dressed in a cream blouse with lace and grace. Matching pants wrap around her legs. She looks professional. Older and more mature.

She doesn't look like the eighteen year old from her grandmother's house. She doesn't look like the eighteen year old who got her heart wrenched out. A man who she had thought she knew so well, only to hurt her. Cut her like a razor blade. Leaving her bleeding and mourning for such idealism.

"My beautiful baby," a voice says as high heels click on the tiles in the foyer. She sees Renee. Her hair is styled meticulously. Charlie walks out, close behind Renee. He gives Bella a smile before quickly walking over to Bella to hug her.

The three of them embrace in a long-needed hug with Bella protected in the middle. She can smell her father's cologne and her mother's perfume. She can't smell the aroma that she wants. She doesn't smell the gentle scent of man, firewood and mechanics, like in her dreams.

Wrapped in a hug in-between her parents, she feels like a pearl again. Only, she's trapped in an oyster shell.

* * *

"There's a sad look in your eyes, child," Camille says. It's late at night. A few of the maids have already gone home. But on some nights, Camille chooses to stay over. The rooms in the house aren't a problem after all. She has one for herself on the downstairs level.

Bella sits on a table bench as Camille takes out the clothes from the dryer. They're in the laundry room with piles of clothes listening eagerly to their conversation.

"I met a boy," Bella says. She doesn't feel like giving anymore away. He's more like a man than a boy. She sees maturity and sensibility in his stature. Alluring poise and respect. She shakes her head, rejecting the plethora of positive attributes of Edward.

"Comment fantastique, Bella!" Camille proudly states, turning to Bella with a bright smile on her face. "Was that the boy who told you Bella was a name that suited you perfectly?"

Bella nods. She feels rather faint just by thinking of the earlier conversations she's had with Edward. But whilst thinking about Edward, Bella's thoughts also wander to Elizabeth. She wonders how she's doing. She likes Elizabeth. There's a gentle compassion in the woman's eyes.

"What went wrong, ma chérie?" Camille asks. Bella always thought Camille had a sixth sense when it came to talking about hardships and conflicts. She seemed to extract thoughts effortlessly from the minds of people.

"Things got between us," Bella says. She doesn't want to refer to Elizabeth as the 'thing' but she doesn't know how else to put it. A silence blankets over the two women who sit in a laundry room that is too big for any house. A house that has more space for a boarding school than enough space for bonding and touching conversations.

A house rather than a home.

"I can hear your mind working," Camille says softly. She purses her lips for a minute before leaning over to whisper in Bella's ear. "Your parents have been fighting lately."

"Do you know why?" Bella asks.

"I'm not sure, I don't know if it's something that happened during their trip or..." Camille says, thinking. "Well, look at me gossiping about all this. How terrible."

Camille turns away with a shy chuckle, sorting through the rest of the clothing. There are clothes that have to be ironed and others that Renee has decided to wash and donate, a reinforcement that her charitable nature is to be made aware of.

"You should go to bed now. It's late," Camille says.

Bella walks up the grand staircase and into one of the hallways where her bedroom has been untouched for weeks. She collapses onto clean sheets and newly bought fabric.

Staring up at the lights of the chandelier hanging from her bedroom ceiling, she finds the artificial light making her unusually sleepy. The tiny, reflective diamonds dangle in their own beauty, showing off merriment. Her eyes start to close as sleep grabs her by the arms and carry her to safety.

She vaguely remembers someone coming in and putting a warm blanket over her. She vaguely remembers someone switching off the lights for her. The tiny diamonds no longer sparkle.

She no longer sparkles.

* * *

"You look so tanned!" Angela exclaims. Bella rolls her eyes at her friend's sarcasm. She looks at her pale, wobbly kneecaps. She looks at the rest of her legs. They have definitely missed out on being kissed by the Tuscan sun. They sit by Angela's pool as both girls rest, having just finished playing tennis. Their rackets are thrown carelessly on the nearby grass as they have changed into swimwear, despite only sun-baking.

"Are you Ariel?" Bella asks Angela, joking back. She looks at her friend through her sunglasses.

"Yeah, do you like it?" Angela says, touching the ends of her hair. Her hair is practically crimson red now. Before it used to be the same shade as Bella's. Chestnut brown with natural highlights and low-lights. Bella wonders how Angela managed to battle with her parents to allow for such a drastic transition.

Angela answers before Bella even has a chance to ask. "It was tough. They opposed at first, but then I guess I threatened to run away or something like that and they figured losing me wasn't worth fighting over a hair color for."

Angela shrugs indifferently as she goes back to her phone. Bella stares at the calm water of the pool. She sees dark blue tiles beneath the body of water. Her eyes roam to see the nicely shaped hedges that line Angela's backyard. A fountain is also in sight.

Her mind suddenly flickers back to what Edward had said. She doesn't want him in her head all the time but he always manages to pop up once in a while, offering her unwanted commentary.

_"You don't know anything about struggle. You don't know whether this is hard or not."_

Looking around, Bella commits herself to truly think about Edward's statements. She's sun-baking and enjoying summer, that's what she's doing. She finds herself huffing in annoyance at the mere questioning of her not being qualified to simply enjoy the summery days. _I have a right to enjoy my time, I'm going to college soon anyway, _she says to herself.

But then her thoughts are juxtaposed with the image of Edward working at the supermarket. She sees the smiles of employees but she also remembers catching the tired looks on many of their faces, as if they want to catch bigger dreams. She sees them sighing when no one is watching. She sees Edward.

Her parents bought her everything. In some sense, they even bought Bella her grades and her friends. Her grades existed because of the countless tutors they would hire. Her reputation existed because of the constant monitoring and bribery they did to get her out of trouble. Her status existed because of them. She could never run away. She really didn't know anything about struggle. It's a struggle to even think of what else she could have possibly been so naïve to as well.

Suddenly, she doesn't feel like lounging by the pool anymore. She doesn't feel like sun-baking. She feels like she's having a heat stroke. She can feel beads of sweat gathering on her forehead.

"I'm going to go back now," she says. Angela tilts her head and looks at her friend.

"Are you okay, Bella?" Angela asks. Bella nods as she picks up a few of her items lying on the ground, next to her recliner chair.

"Hey, Ben's got a party at his place tonight, wanna go?" Angela adds.

Ben Cheney is Angela's boyfriend. With his parents being successful, commercial lawyers, it resulted in him getting whatever he wanted. Sometimes when his parents were traveling, he'd pull the typical dance sequence from _Risky Business_. He found that throwing parties during his parents' absence was exhilarating. It was more of the thrill of rebellion than the actual rebellion itself.

"Sure," Bella replies, without missing a beat. Anything to forget him.

* * *

The music pounds in her ears as she hears Ben's voice hollering like a true party host. He's got one arm around Angela and another around some clearly drunk guy who looks like he can barely stand up straight. With Ben's arm hanging over the guy's shoulder, it's like added weight.

By now, the party has been going on for more than three hours. The booze is flowing and the music is roaring. At Angela's suggestion, Bella decided to wear a little black dress. Strapless. She finds herself moving with the crowd. It's a different crowd to the one at Jared's birthday party.

People are dressed formally. It's almost like a masquerade ball of some sort, accompanied by the noises of adolescents drinking their heads off. A party for the young and prestigious. Nobody knew each other. Nobody really cared about knowing each other. Everyone has on a mask. A story to tell and a secret to hide. Sometimes, those secrets flow out with the slurred words of drunkenness; what a risk to take.

A part of Bella feels like this is where she belongs. This crowd is the one she has most similarities with and the one her parents would want her to be around. But another voice in her head instructs her to not forget the forced friendliness within these people. High heels click all over the place. Laughter and flirtation bounce through conversations.

"Hello beautiful," a masculine voice says. Bella turns around.

She sees dark blond hair and piercing blue eyes. He's wearing a suit and a tie. The first thing that springs to her mind is how different he looks to the laid-back Edward. She tries to push that comparison away. _I'm here to have fun_, she tells herself.

"Hello stranger," she murmurs. She can feel herself acting seductive. Trying too hard. Almost as if she's trying to impress someone. That someone who is inside her head, persistently, still commenting on everything she does.

A smile lingers on the guy's lips. By the end of the night, she knows him to be Peter Wilkins. Twenty-one year old and still weighing his options in life. Similar to most of the people mingling at parties like these, he's an heir to old money. He's attractive, young and talented. She talks to him as his arm is casually slung across the back of her chair. Different people are preoccupied with their own conversations. She sees women tracing loosened-up ties that the men wear, others are whispering into each other's ears.

She looks at Peter, catching him staring at her already. An immediate craving grows heavy on her tongue. She isn't sure if it's the helpless fact that she feels _wanted_. The attention; it's soothing and therapeutic. She isn't sure if this is only a reaction to her desperation to want to forget. Forget everything. Every harsh word that _he _has said to her.

"You're a beautiful lady, Bella," Peter says. His hand has slowly risen and is now touching her jaw. She sees rare tenderness and patience within his sapphire eyes. But she doesn't know what he wants, what he does, who he is. She doesn't know anything about him. She needs time. Time to demolish the guarded walls that she has put up around herself again. He seems to sense that.

"I'm not asking for anything, Bella. I just want to get to know you better," Peter whispers. She hears huskiness in his deep voice. She tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Wisps of hair from her side up-do have fallen out from their clipping, framing her heart-shaped face.

She feels him inching closer. Suddenly, she feels like she's cheating on Edward. She feels like she isn't supposed to be here. She's conflicted. Torn by her options. Confused by her emotions. She doesn't know if she should follow her head or her heart. Her hands or her feet. To touch him or to walk away.

He presses a soft kiss to her cheek as he inches towards her lips. He's allowing her time. Waiting for her to push him away, to reject his advances. He's putting himself out there. Peter's lips dance over her smooth skin, until they finally land on her lips.

She becomes very still for a moment as his hands move to touch her arms and shoulders. But then she gives in like a damsel in distress meeting her hero. Bella moves her lips just the way Peter does. The voice in her head realizes that its objections are futile. It slowly grows quieter and quieter until it is simply a noiseless presence.

Her heart aches for _him_, but her body aches for this.

* * *

**I made a banner on Photoshop for this story. It's linked on my profile if anyone's interested.**

**So, thoughts on Peter? ;)**

**Love, perpetually.**


	25. Prepare

**Metamorphosis**

* * *

_ Hoping for the best, prepared for the worst, and unsurprised by anything in between._

_― Maya Angelou_

* * *

**24. Prepare**

The party that Renee had been talking about develops into the usual frenzy of decorating and organization for catering services. Sometimes, Bella goes downstairs only to hear Renee's dissatisfied voice with some of the event managers. She can hear the arguing of where the tables should be situated and the discussing of what color the theme and table cloths should be.

She walks by all of that. The drama of the charity ball and the preparation of such superficiality. Everybody who attends Renee's events wants something in return. Whether it's a good name or a beneficial affiliation. Charity is just the cherry on top. Underneath that cherry are swirls and swirls of young socialites enticing older men and older males keeping an eye on young heiresses.

She walks around the house, her shoes making echoey sounds on the marble floor. She swings her arms like a child, making her her hand glide over the things she passes by. From golden wall panels to polished, wooden furniture. Her handprints are left scattered all over her house, as if setting a reminder that she is a ghostly spirit leaving her mark. Hovering around but aimless in nature. Bella is here but her mind is far away.

Thinking and drifting to the little, blue house in Forks.

"Come here, Bella," her mother calls. "I'm thinking that you will need a new dress for the ball. Dark blue looks wonderful on you, don't you think?"

Bella approaches, seeing a photo Renee is pointing to in a high-end boutique magazine. Renee looks at another catalogue as Bella stares at the one she's been given.

The glossy paper flows under Renee's fingers as she flips through the pages, leaving an impression of superiority as the printed prices are of no importance to her. Bella sees her mother pausing and thinking for a few moments before continuing to scan for a suitable attire.

She can hear muttering under Renee's breath. "Too bland... too plain..."

Bella's eyes then travel back to the blue dress Renee showed her. The dress has a sweetheart neckline and jewels embroidered underneath the breasts, acting like a diamond belt. The silky fabric is almost a navy color. She knows what Renee wants to hear so she gives it to her.

"It looks lovely, mom," Bella says. Renee gives Bella a satisfied smile before taking back the catalogue and placing note on the page.

"We'll go get it tomorrow morning, honey," Renee says with finality, turning back to the pages in front of her. Colors are littered across the pages. Jewellery and expensiveness. Ball gowns and designer heels. Renee doesn't bat an eyelash. She lets out a huff of breath as she continues to look for her dress, going back to her mumbling. She doesn't speak anymore so Bella excuses herself.

"Bella, come back here," Renee says in a bored voice. Bella pauses before walking back again.

"Honey, what's going on between Edward and you?" her mother asks, looking into Bella's eyes as if she's withholding a collection of dangerous secrets.

"Nothing, we're just being... teenagers," Bella says, choosing her words carefully.

"Well, just a piece of advice, you're still young. You're valuable, desirable and my beautiful daughter of course. So have a bit of fun, if you get what I mean," Renee says, occasionally looking at the magazines in front of her.

Bella isn't sure what her mother is implying. "What do you mean?"

Renee closes the catalogue and rests her chin on her elbows. "What I mean is, have a bit of _fun_. You don't have to be too faithful now. You're not married for heaven's sake. I'm sure there's a lot of young men in New York who are interested in you."

_This cannot possibly be sex advice from my own dear mother, _Bella thinks to herself.

"Okay," Bella says, slowly. Her eyebrows are slightly raised in confusion. Renee seems oblivious to Bella's uncertainty as she gives her daughter a wink.

_She's only trying to help_, Bella tells herself as her feet carry her away from her mother's ludicrous words.

Later that evening, Bella's parents leave, saying something about attending a birthday dinner party. Bella ends up being indulged in a hardcover copy of _Pride and Prejudice_, smiling at some of the parts. She loves Austen's characterization of Mr Darcy. He seems moody and confusing, like he has a painful story behind the handsome mask. She finds his façade very appealing but at times, totally irritating. Yet she finds herself crying at his rejected proposal.

_"You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you."_

She swoons at the mere thought of Darcy's gradual, character development where he proves to Elizabeth Bennet how kind and generous he really is. Bella finds herself acting as her usual hopeless-romantic. She floats away in her fiction. She is book loving and cloud nine. She hopes for that love again.

Bella is pulled out of her happiness and set back into the space of reality when her cell phone rings. Looking at the caller ID, she sees it as Marie's telephone number.

"Grandma?" she answers.

"Hello dear, how are you?" Marie asks.

"I'm fine," she replies. She's not fine. She knows it. Marie can sense it too.

She's heartbroken and missing. She's a pearl in her oyster that has been polished by its new owners and left in a safe place. A jewellery box that sees no light. What's the point of shining when the person you love the most isn't there to witness it all?

"Please don't be mad at me, dear, but give him a chance," Marie says. Bella's body freezes.

"What are you talking-"

"He's told me everything. Well not everything everything. But he's caught me up on what's been going on with you two," Marie says. "Darling, let me tell you, what you two have is something out of this world. I knew it as soon as you two met. You are kindred spirits."

"Grandma," Bella says, choking back her tears. "He's hurt me-"

"I know, dearest one. But he's begging for forgiveness. He's repenting. You should have seen his eyes when he came over a few days ago. I had to force him to lie down and catch up on some sleep," says Marie.

Bella suddenly imagines eyes that are sad and bloodshot like hers. She pictures heavy bags and lines of worrisome.

"Sorry Bella, I don't mean to interrupt your phone call but someone's waiting for you downstairs," Camille says, popping her head into Bella's room.

"I'll let you go now, dear. Remember, trust yourself. Trust your heart. You know yourself the best. No one can take that away from you," Marie says, ending the call with wisdom lingering in the air.

Bella walks down the stairs and into the foyer.

He sits there, unmistakably. He's looking down. He's a bundle of nerves and a bunch of sleepless nights tied together like a ribbon on a bouquet. She's the same.

He looks up. He's desperate and frantic. She knows it won't be the same.

* * *

**Leaving it on a promising note. As always, feel free to share your thoughts. Have a great day, y'all.**

**Love, perpetually.**


	26. Presence

**Metamorphosis**

* * *

_Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up._

_― Neil Gaiman_

* * *

**25. Presence**

Edward's mouth is slightly open. Bella sees sorrowful pink in his eyes and apologetic green in the center. She can taste his self-hatred and shame as his bloodshot eyes stare at her. But she doesn't feel sorry for Edward. She's braver than that. She's courage and independence. She's been brought up looking for her backbone. She knows she's found it now. Bella is no longer helpless and submissive. At least she hopes she's not.

Bella looks away, turning to inspect the marble floor instead. She's not ready to look at him for too long. It allows nervous butterflies to enter her stomach.

"Bella, look at me. Please," she hears the plea in his voice. She feels the air become hotter. More suffocating. Even though the room is so big.

He stands up from his seat and walks to her. Right foot followed by left. Left foot then right. He's taking cautious steps and slow moves. Like a lion scared that the lamb will run away. If it's not stealthy enough, it may very well miss out on its next meal.

"Don't come any closer," Bella whispers in warning. She cannot bear to have him stand any closer. He's her demon. He's her trigger. Her downfall. Her weakness. She's stronger than that. She's above desire. She doesn't want it from him anymore. She's over his evasive behavior and his insensitivity with words. She's risen higher; higher than the girl who came back from Forks with tear-stained cheeks and sad eyes. She's the girl with walls built high and a heart buried low.

"What do you want?" she asks. She feels a sneer coming onto her lips. She never does that; she never treats others with cruelty. But he's made her do it. He's made her do and feel a lot of things. He's the devil in sheep's clothing. He's her undoing.

"I want you," he simply says. Bella sees darkness under Edward's eyes and ruefulness between his lips. She suddenly feels ambiguity and hope wrapping their arms around her fragile frame, trying to shake her out of it. It's like they're on his side.

She feels like she can read him, from the way he positions his hands to the way he bites his lip. He can't hide shield himself away from her. She's always known how to read him, yet she's never been good at it. She doesn't know the secrets he hides. Nor does she know about the dark wings he spreads when he's away from her and away from playing the gentleman role. She narrows her eyes, starting to see him for who he is.

A monster who is going to break her eventually.

He speaks of deception, accusing her of such. But she sees deception in him. This mystery in front of her. She yearns to open him up like Pandora's box. But she's no longer curious. She's scared and afraid, heartbroken because of him.

"I want you, please," he whispers, tears lining his emerald eyes. His hands are out, reaching for her. They're alone. Camille never even followed Bella downstairs. She knew it would come down to this. Two teary-eyed people. One full of regret for his actions and the other full of regrets for falling for him. Both are two pieces of china; their edges are no longer matching. It's not a clean break. It's the jagged type of uneven separation. Full of hurt and despondency. The type that makes you bleed.

"You caused this," Bella angrily states. "I cared for you. I wanted to help you."

She's not relenting this time. She's fiery anger and bottled-up tears. She's full of tenacity.

"I'm sorry," Edward says. "I never meant to hurt you."

_Words, words, words... _she finds herself quoting Prince Hamlet. Merely words of a man who wants to backtrack his actions. They couldn't sound any more clichéd.

"You meant every word you said." Her voice is unforgiving. Solid. Like two pylons of a bridge, linking two islands of a city together.

She's the Golden Gate, the Brooklyn.

She's strong-minded and clear-headed. Unbreakable on the outside but shattering on the inside. But he won't affect her anymore. He's doesn't get to stab the wound he's made in her chest. His distance is vital, however. For he is like a tsunami, one that can tumble down the pylons and the sturdy, city bridges. He can ruin all the progress she's made, just with his presence. One look at him and she's already wobbly, wondering if the bricks and cement can hold her up.

Edward doesn't say anything. His jaw muscle is working hard. She sees his frustration. She can smell his desire for pity. His wordless self is met with her silent smile. She knows she's right.

But he doesn't give up even when a broken sigh is let out. He's slowly starting to crumble. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I am just so sor-"

But Edward can't finish. His tears block his throat and blur his vision. A silent croak comes out. She feels like running to his side and pulling him to her chest. She wants his arms to wrap around her waist and for him to whisper encouragement in her ears again. She wants to rub his back and kiss him all over. But she can't and she won't.

She's teary but she's not a deluge of flooding tears. She's heartless and fearless. Watching sadistically at the man she once loved dissolve into a puddle of tormented sobs. Her hand twitches. She's not evil, she's certain she still has empathy left in her. So why isn't she doing anything? Bella shakily breathes in and out.

She hears his tears as he tries to catch another breath. His sobs shake his body. She no longer sees color in his eyes. She sees eyes shut closed and pain tearing at his ribs as he holds himself in place. She knows because she feels the same. Her heart is cracking open with every cry that comes out of him.

"I love you," he croaks. She blinks.

He repeats it. He says it a good ten more times with watery sobs breaking out each time. He mumbles unintelligible words, veiled by his melancholy. She can't stand it anymore. She can't watch his hurting. His hurting is her hurting and it's burning a hole right through her chest.

Bella walks up to Edward. He doesn't see her because he is hunched slightly, drowned in weeps. He's slowly moving back, trying to get the support of the seat instead of his legs helping him to stand up. She places a hand on his shoulder as he sits down. His sniffling quietens as his eyes look up. They are fragile and broken. She never meant to force a confession out of him. She doesn't want him to feel obliged to love her. She gave him her heart once; she doesn't want his manufactured words in apology. She'd rather he be honest. She wouldn't be able to stand any more lies especially when it came to confessions of the heart.

"Edward," she begins. "You don't have to say it-"

"I do, Bella. I _do_ have to say it. I love you, I love you," he says, almost like a chant. He's a crazed man, praying for the one good thing he's lost. He's been blinded by his fears but now he sees light streaming in. He feels himself going mad for her. He'd do anything, even if it meant building Rome in a day. She nods as a single tear drops from her eye. But that lone tear soon finds more friends as she starts to weep just as hard as he does. They face each other, once again with silver tracks on their cheeks and wetness in their eyes.

"Okay," she says. There's nothing more she wants to say. There's nothing left to say. Where do they go on from here?

They sit, staring. They sit, wondering.

They're positioned like two cherub statues, gazing into each other's eyes. Unmoving.

* * *

**Let's just say that this story is not even halfway there yet (yes it's a long story but short chapters to make it easier). I guess I just have delicate stuff I want to explore with prolonged care.**

**Thoughts from you guys are forever appreciated. Thanks for reading and have a wonderful day as always.**

**Love, perpetually.**


	27. Room

**Metamorphosis**

* * *

_One of the keys to happiness is a bad memory._

_― Rita Mae Brown_

* * *

**26. Room**

She brings him upstairs. They skip the house tour, they skip the introductions to the various rooms. It's not the typical inviting of the boyfriend back home. They're two broken pieces attempting to hold still. Hold each other while the glue in between them soothes the cracked edges.

She brings him up to her room to talk. Not to do anything else. Even though her breaths become shallower and her goosebumps more prominent, she is determined to only have his presence for nothing else but for him to explain.

She doesn't have to ask how he found her address. She's sure Marie gave him that. She doesn't know how he's traveled here. She doesn't know what has happened during the time that they've lost. There's daggers of hurt in her chest. He's broken her, shattered her growing wings and her building confidence. He blew it all away like what the wolf did to the little piggy's straw house. He took the straws that fenced her heart and burnt it in an incinerator.

"We can just sit on the bed," she mutters.

The chandelier hangs over them. He looks up at it, a little dazed by its crystals and its beauty. But then he stares at Bella, questioning how he could have even marveled at a chandelier when she's right in front of him.

"You told my grandmother." It's a statement. The conversation will follow her terms.

"I went to visit you... but you weren't there anymore. I talked to Marie and she was a kind woman," Edward says.

"Did she suggest for you to come here?" Bella asks. She's curious. Marie's phone call seemed too perfectly timed, almost as if she knew roughly when he would land. Like she knew when he'd knock on her door like a fallen knight. Her grandmother was insightful, Bella knew that, but she also knew Marie loved to meddle in other people's business.

"For their benefits," her grandmother would defensively say.

"Yeah," Edward says quietly. He looks down sheepishly. "She told me to get my butt on a plane. She also offered to pay for the hotel arrangements."

Bella wants to pick up the phone and call Marie right now, asking her the thousands of questions soaring in her head. However, Bella's also somewhat glad that Marie's making her face her stubborn problems. Bella loved to shy away from her internal issues. If there was a hurdle she couldn't jump over, she'd just walk around it and simply pretend she knew how to resolve it.

"You don't have to stay at a hotel," Bella quietly says. She doesn't want Marie using her own money in an attempt to sort out the love-hate relationship between two emotional teenagers. "We have plenty of rooms here."

It was true. At least ten rooms upstairs and a couple downstairs for the servants' quarter where the maids would occasionally sleep in. They were newly renovated and definitely not dingy rooms with leaky walls, like those in horror movies. If that happened to be the case, Bella would be sneaking Camille into a guestroom upstairs every time she'd stay over at the Swan residence.

Edward opens and closes his mouth, at a loss for words. _She's being too kind_, he thinks to himself. It makes his chest double in pain at the thought of him hurting such a beautiful creature. He was meant to protect her and cherish her. She'd once told him that he made her feel loved. He then decided it was a good idea to break her down for no good reason at all.

"I need time, you know," Bella continues to speak. Whether her parents will like it or not, Edward shall not be staying at a hotel. What will he do there? Come to her house every morning? They have things to sort out. It'd be a lot easier for everything to just stay in the house.

"I'll give you time," he says, hurriedly. He softly adds, "I'll give you anything you want."

If she looks at him too quickly- too suddenly- she knows she'll forgive him. She knows he'll be crawling back into her web of trust. She gives him a curt nod.

"How's your mother?" she asks, tentatively. It's been on the back of her mind to ask about Elizabeth.

"She's managing," Edward answers. "She also encouraged me to come after you. She wouldn't hear of it any differently. She promised to pay Marie back."

"Elizabeth doesn't need to. My grandmother loves spending money on people," Bella says. It was true, Marie always doted on Bella but the thing was... Bella never needed any of her money. Charlie and Renee would beat Marie to it. So instead of purchasing materialistic things for Bella, Marie offered her love and compassion. Things that were not worldly. They were genuine. Real.

"Are your parents home?" Edward asks.

Bella shakes her head. "No, they're out, dining at some fancy place for the fiftieth birthday of my dad's colleague."

Edward's eyes stay on Bella as his hands slowly inch out in front of him, hoping to come into contact with her skin. They haven't touched at all, apart from her gentle hand on his shoulder. But he didn't get to directly feel the softness of her skin. He missed out on the surging electricity. Edward longs for her soft, angelic warmth. It's been too long.

She pulls her hand away, almost instinctively. His heart sinks. _I'm so stupid_, he says to himself, _don't push her away now, she's giving you a chance_.

As they sit facing each other with their legs crossed, they relish in memories that the other individual reminds them of. He remembers her beautiful moaning and her soft lips. She remembers his muscles caging her in with protection.

Behind the gloomy expressions of both Edward and Bella, they find a happy place in their minds. A temple in the sky of some sort.

But as they float back down, through the misty clouds and to Earth again, they remember the tension. They see the shambles of their once blossoming relationship. Trust is to be rebuilt and walls to be re-demolished. Secrets to be excavated and a love to be nurtured.

"Do you... still feel the same about me?" Edward asks, suddenly but inquisitively. She's a little surprised by his question. She doesn't know if she should give him the truth or the lie. She doesn't even know for sure herself.

"I don't know," she says. It's the easiest answer. His shoulders drop. She turns to look at her lap instead.

"There's a party here, tomorrow night," Bella says. If he's to stay with her for the time being, she can't possibly leave him upstairs locked in the guestroom. "You should join in with us."

It's a step further on the board-game. It's like she's rolled the dice and has landed on a one. He does the same and gets the identical single dot facing upwards. They're taking tentative steps. Baby steps. She's not going to slide down the ladder now and enter a pit full of snakes. She's taking her time with this, whether it's navigating through Snakes and Ladders or being economical in Monopoly. Life, it's just like a board-game. She wants to limit her errors. She'll be careful with him.

"If you're sure," he says. He's trying to appear polite on the outside. But deep inside, he's bubbling with excitement. An eagerness to please Bella. He'll prove to her his worth. He'll make her trust him again. He loves her.

She guides him to his room. She can't have him sleeping in the guestroom nearest to hers. She won't be able to contain herself in the middle of the night. She will not be able to guarantee anything... her control will only last so long.

"There's some spare clothes in the wardrobe," Bella says.

"My bag is downstairs," Edward responds.

He goes down to bring the bag up into his temporary room. It's not a large bag; there's hardly any stuff in it. She's not sure how long he intends to stay. However, he most likely did not bring a tuxedo with him. She'll have to go buy one with him tomorrow, preferably not with Renee.

"Goodnight," she murmurs as she walks out of his room, leaving him on his own.

His hand reaches out and touches her palm gently. She gasps. It's a brave move but he doesn't let go. His caressing of her soft skin makes her eyes feel droopy and her head feel sleepy. Suddenly, all she wants to do is curl up next to him and go to sleep.

"Thank you, Bella," he whispers. He's close to her. She sees every fine detail of him. From his eyelashes to the texture of his irises. He can see the few freckles on her nose and cheeks.

As they separate reluctantly, with her walking down the hallway and with him standing up in the middle of the room, they can still hear each other's breathing.

Leaving echoes in the large mansion.

* * *

**I love you all. Tell me what you think about my melodrama. I'm sorry... it's headed on a path to get worse.  
**

**Stay fabulous, splendid homo sapiens.**

**Love, perpetually.**


	28. Champagne

**Metamorphosis**

* * *

_A quiet conscience makes one strong!_

_― Anne Frank_

* * *

**27. Champagne **

"I want to get to know him better so I think it'd be a brilliant idea to go shopping together," Renee says. Bella told her mother that Edward would need a suit for the ball this evening.

Bella had stayed up rather late last night, not by choice but by the keen awareness of Edward under the same roof as her. She'd wandered around the house in her nightgown. When her parents had arrived back home, although a little tipsy, she told them there was another man in the house. A man who was most likely snoring away his exhaustion from the plane ride. A journey across the nation.

They had been shocked at first but then Renee told Charlie to loosen up a bit. He grumbled something about Bella being influenced too much by her mother's parenting style before he went upstairs. Later that night, Bella would hear yelling in the master suite. She only hoped Edward wasn't woken up by it. Despite it being muffled behind thick, wooden doors, she knew something was going on with her parents.

Little did Bella know, Edward didn't sleep much either. His mind had been racing with images of the brunette beauty whose house he was staying in. Every time he'd shut his eyes, he'd see flashes of her graceful neck. Her beautiful eyes. Her enticing cleavage. He couldn't stop the montage of pictures from flooding his head.

Clanging cutlery reverberate distantly through the kitchen walls. Bella sees her own reflection in her mother's expectant, blue eyes.

She's given no choice but to acquiesce to Renee's command. Renee tells Bella to wake up Edward as they're planning to leave soon. Renee doesn't know much about Edward. Bella cringes at the thought of Renee finding out about all of Edward's intricate details. She'll flip out when she realizes he's not from a wealthy background and also probably not intending to go to college.

Bella walks upstairs, but just as her hand is about to make contact with the door, the door is swung open. He's awake and dressed. He gives her a gentle smile before asking what her morning has been like.

"Your food is downstairs," Bella says, leading him to the breakfast table. All sorts of things are available- croissants, pancakes and pieces of fruit. Milk and juice are also present on the table. His eyes bulge out slightly at the mere sight of so much food. Probably enough food to feed a village in a third world country.

Renee sees him and gives him a thorough look, scrutinizing his clothes.

"Hello, I'm Bella's mother, Renee. You must be Edward," she says.

"Edward Masen," he says, shaking her hand.

The three of them enjoy breakfast under an atmosphere of awkward first impressions. Although Renee has taken a cautious liking to Edward, Bella can already feel the questions assembling in Renee's throat. She's waiting for a suitable moment to unload all her queries.

"Is dad still sleeping?" Bella asks. Renee nods, looking rather annoyed at Bella bringing up Charlie.

With Renee spraying a copious amount of perfume all over her, the ride with Eleazar turns into a suffocating car ride of silence as Bella feels her lungs closing up. Luckily, they arrive at the boutique just before Bella can pass out. She's the first one to escape from the car.

At Renee's insistence, Edward stands away from the dressing rooms as Renee wishes for Bella's dress to be a surprise for the night. Bella changes into multiple dresses with a few personal shoppers in the boutique critiquing which ones will look best with her complexion. In the end, Renee sends the assistants a victorious smile as they settle on the dark blue dress that Renee had initially suggested.

Two hours later, Bella's mother buys a dark purple dress that fits her snugly, emphasizing her curves. The open back feature of the dress adds a level of sophistication and class. Renee is surely doing a good job at aging well.

They proceed to go to another store, this time, one particularly for men. They settle on a dark blue suit with a black tie. The five o'clock shadow on Edward's jaw is perfect with his attire. The dark colors bring out the greenness of his eyes.

Bella breathes out slowly at the amount of time they've spent shopping. She sees Edward looking equally tired but Renee looks energized, like she just drank three cups of coffee. They go back home, left with the remaining hours of the afternoon to prepare for the event.

With the afternoon trudging on, Bella nurtures solitary. She listens to some music and ends up laughing and smiling at her favorite podcast. But that smile slowly disappears when Bella finds herself staring at the mirror, into her reflection, on the vanity table.

"Who am I?" she asks herself. She continues to look at her reflection- philosophy dancing in her bones- as if she's waiting for a response from the Bella that stares back at her. The mirror Bella that will mimic every movement and facial expression. The real Bella is really no different. She'll follow but she'll never lead.

Shaking her head, she proceeds to take out her make-up palettes. She'll be another person tonight.

She'll be Isabella again.

* * *

The music is already playing. She can hear the soft clinking of glasses. Flutes filled with champagne and expensive wine. She walks down the spiral staircase, looking at the people on the ground floor. Her hair is in loose waves but they're rolled into perfection. She had to have a few helpers with that. Her eyes are lined, with false eyelashes glued to accentuate her feminine features. Red stains her lips and powder coats her face.

Some people gasp in awe at Bella. She walks down the final steps... then she notices him.

Edward looks as handsome as ever. He stares at her like a blind man seeing the sun for the first time. Shyly, he presses a kiss to her knuckles. She sees the want in his eyes. She feels like a rose. Beautiful but defensive with its thorns.

People say their greetings to Bella but she makes no move to correct them from calling her Isabella. She just nods politely and even gives an occasional curtsy, eliciting laughs from a few elderly couples. They touch Bella's cheek and tell her how much she's grown.

"Are you okay?" Bella asks Edward. The last party they'd been to together had ended with some naked backsides meeting beach waves. Clearly that will not be happening tonight.

"I'm good," he says. She can see uncertainty wavering in his eyes but she also senses willpower and purpose.

"We're not supposed to drink," Bella says. "But I still manage to get a few glasses from the waiters."

Edward smiles at Bella. He can't stop staring at her. The soft blush on her cheeks. Her beautiful, brown eyes that sparkle. He misses this. He misses her.

After managing to get two flutes of champagne, Bella and Edward sway to the music and talk for a while. She excuses herself to go to the restroom. Whilst washing her hands, she meets mirror Bella again. She seems happier than she has in days. She isn't ready to jump back into his arms, not like the first leap of faith she took. But she has faith and hope. She wants to trust him again, someday. She wants to make it work.

She's got the Bambi-eyes for Edward and a heart thudding like Thumper's foot. She's all around Disney-enchanted when it comes to Edward Masen.

Bella leaves the bathroom with a million thoughts clouding her mind, resulting in her collision with another body. She apologizes profusely before she realizes she's staring into familiar eyes. Peter.

"Bella, you look stunning," Peter says, leaning in to kiss her cheek. "Absolutely ravishing."

She's always told him how posh he sounds but he just ends up grinning and denying all her words. Bella gives a hearty laugh as she compliments his suit. Peter then proceeds to tell her that she's completely lying because for the most part, suits all looked relatively similar. He adds that it's the women's dresses that make it a night.

"How have you been?" Peter asks.

"I've been pretty good. What about yourself?" Bella says. Dressed in a black tuxedo and with his twinkling eyes, Bella notices the attention Peter Wilkins draws to himself from the females. Some are even shamelessly giggling as they walk by.

"I'm at my best when I'm in your company," he says, giving her a cheesy smile.

She's just about to ask him what he's doing here- perhaps, Renee has just gotten closer to the Wilkins- when Peter surprises her. Before she knows what's happening, his hands are cupping her face and pulling her into a soft, languid kiss. She feels his hand trailing down her shoulder and onto her arm before they slide around her waist to pull her closer. It triggers memories of their first kiss. His lips are soft and his kiss is gentle. As she's about to kiss back, she realizes what she's doing.

Abruptly, she pulls away.

"I'm sorry, Peter. I can't," she gasps. Breathless from his kissing.

"It's okay," Peter says, looking a little hurt. "I'm sorry... I promised to go slow. I respect you Bella, a lot. I want you to know that."

"No, you _have _been going slow," Bella says in an attempt to comfort him. "I just have some things going on."

Bella realizes that it's just a repetitive cycle of both of them apologizing. _He's trying to be a good guy_, she reminds herself.

"I'll talk to you later, Peter," she says. She presses a kiss onto his cheek before she moves away, trying to forget his sad smile.

Away, she walks.

To find Edward.

* * *

**I have quite a lot of story ideas just lingering in my head but I don't feel like I should start them until I'm nearly finished with the current WIPs. Hopefully these updates get faster!**

**Many kisses and hugs.**

**Love, perpetually.**


	29. Perfect

**Metamorphosis**

* * *

_You don't love someone because they're perfect, you love them in spite of the fact that they're not._

_― Jodi Picoult_

* * *

**28. Perfect**

She wanders back to the place where they'd been standing at, before she'd left to go to the restroom. She's never told Edward anything about Peter Wilkins; she's sure that the two have never met. She thinks back to the kiss. A pang of guilt suddenly makes her walk a little faster. Her eyes search for a certain bronze-haired man but she doesn't see one. He's not against the wall that they'd been leaning upon.

"Where is he?" she mutters to herself.

Bella walks into the courtyard where people are sitting by the fountain and talking. Her eyes scan for Edward but she sees no sign of him. Her thoughts start to grow desperate. _Where could he be?_

"Well, if it isn't Miss Swan!"

Bella turns around to see James Carter standing next to her. He's got a euphoric smile on and crow's feet etched near his eyes. James Carter's a thirty-five year-old who works with Charlie. Growing up, Bella had always seen James as an extra uncle. He'd always play with Bella and tell her that if any boys were mean to her, he'd slay all of them just for her sake.

She remembers thinking of him as her Prince Charming.

With his blond hair slicked back and his grey eyes shining due to the liquor in his system, James starts rambling to Bella about his new girlfriend, Alexandra, who is all the way from Thailand. She finds herself listening to him talk about their pet poodle, Daisy, who urinated on his foot the other day when he was walking the dog.

"That bitch!" James laughs, jabbing at Bella. He's evidently pleased with his joke.

Bella excuses herself and leaves to continue her search for Edward. She turns around and sees James talking to another individual. The man seems to be completely frightened of James and his tipsy rambling. Bella laughs at the sight. James Carter was known to be an excellent mediator. He could resolve any problem when he was in the room. No conversation was awkward if he was involved.

Bella walks around, thinking of all the places Edward could have wandered off to. She greets people as they notice her. Some wave at her. She waves back. She hasn't seen her parents all evening either.

She finally sits back down on one of the chairs inside, with a huff, not having had any success in catching sight of Edward. She grabs a tart from the table and shoves it down her mouth in a very unladylike manner.

"Watch your behavior." Bella hears the familiar voice of her mother hiss at her.

Turning around with her mouth stuffed with food, she sees Renee staring back at her with disdain. Bella knows that look. It's Renee's threatened look. She's scared that Bella will embarrass her in front of all the guests. After having a lengthy conversation with Renee about etiquettes, Bella manages to extract herself out of Renee's clutches.

She decides to go upstairs, to the bedrooms, to see if Edward is hiding there. Guests aren't usually allowed upstairs; they are to merrily float around downstairs where music and food are offered on tier servers and silver plates. Bella hears the mellifluous music of violins being played in the garden as a large applause for the performance follows.

She heads straight to Edward's guest room. She knocks on the door. There's no answer.

But she pushes the door open anyway.

He's on the floor by the bed. Loose tie. Disheveled hair. She slowly walks into the room. He doesn't acknowledge her presence. She starts to feel worried by his behavior. Perhaps, he started to feel ill during the evening. Maybe he started feeling nervous around the people downstairs.

"Edward..." she says slowly. She doesn't want to scare him. He seems half-awake at this point. Definitely looking tipsy. "Oh no, Edward. How many glasses did you have?"

At her voice, he looks up. His eyes alert.

"Six," he happily says. She shakes her head at him. He's staring at her but not in a look of amazement and awe. Instead, it's a look hued with suspicion and doubt. It's like he's trying to infiltrate her secrets from the internal corridors of her mind palace, evading the external guards and security cameras.

"I'm too late," he mutters to himself.

She's momentarily confused. "Too late for what?"

Edward looks like he's about to be sick. She gently rubs his back in a soothing up-and-down motion. He looks at her with so much regret and apology in his eyes that her heart feels a throbbing ache.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry... sorry," he chants in a very soft voice. She continues to rub his back, making him sit up a bit. He leans his head into the crook of her neck, smelling her scent. He slowly starts to kiss the soft skin of her neck. She pauses her rubbing.

"Edward?"

"I'm sorry," he whimpers with remorse. "I love you so much... love you Bella."

Her heart feels like it's in shatters... strewn all over on the ground. She isn't meant to feel like this. She's supposed to be elated by his words of love for her. She should be telling him how much he means to her. Allowing him to make sweet love to her body, mind and soul. But the pain in her chest expands as she looks at Edward's broken form. He looks troubled. Sick.

"It's okay, Edward," she says, pressing her lips to his temple as she continues to rub his back in circles.

"I'm sorry," he continues to repeat, completely confined in his own world. Eventually his words become garbled with mixtures of 'sorry' and 'love'. She finds it hard to decipher what he's truly trying to say. He's repeating everything like a broken record, stuck on the same part of a woeful song.

But then he speaks. With perfect clarity.

"I saw him," he says. "I saw him with you."

Bella freezes. Edward takes her frozen state as obvious confirmation. He's shaking his head and still mumbling to himself.

"You two were kissing," he says. "You two looked like the perfect couple."

"Edward, please don't-"

She knows it's hurting him. His pained eyes stare into hers. He offers her a sad smile.

"It's okay. I'm just... coming to terms with all of it," he says, calmly. "It's my fault, I hate myself. I was too late. I'm sorry, so sorry, for the damage that I've caused."

A sob slips out from her lips as she holds Edward to her chest. She feels him leaning into her as they sit on the floor with her dress pooling around them. Her dark blue dress illustrates an ocean floor. They look like two shipwrecked survivors floating out at sea. Holding onto each other as they drift into the unknown. Holding onto each other for dear life.

"Edward, please. You're not late. It's okay," she whispers with a plea. She's holding him like a girl holding her beloved teddy. The teddy bear is broken. Naturally, the girl is also broken. She's determined to fix up the source of her happiness.

"What are you doing here, Bella?" he asks, mumbling into her hair. "You belong out there, where you get to shine. You're so beautiful, so brilliant. Don't waste your time with me."

She weeps, shaking with tears as she grasps onto him. He doesn't do anything, still murmuring drunkenly. They say that sometimes a drunk man's words are a sober man's thoughts. Sometimes, that's true.

"Don't do this to yourself," Bella says. "You're an incredible person. Don't be so self-deprecating."

"I love, love... love Bella," he says, as if he's talking to himself. She feels wetness near her neck. She feels his tears. His brokenness and his regret. She doesn't want to hurt him anymore. She never intended to hurt him. She only wanted him and he broke her. She had to fix herself. Mend her wings. Learn to fly again. After the destruction of her infatuation.

"Edward, it was a mistake. I didn't kiss him back," she says. "He kissed me."

Edward grows silent before he starts to mutter something again. "I saw you two... you two... looked so right. Look at me right now."

A surge of guilt powers through her bloodstream as she thinks back to _that_ night. The night she had kissed Peter at the party. She had wanted so desperately to hurt Edward. The Edward in her mind. The Edward in her heart. She wanted to erase everything that they'd had. But nothing happened that night. She couldn't go through with it. She was so eager to forget that she remembered she couldn't.

"I want you," she says, kissing him. "You're all that I want. I don't want anyone else. No matter who they are or what they have. They're not you. They'll never be like you."

"I'm sorry I was late, Bella," he whispers, continuing from where he left off. "You know... do you know why I wanted to call you _Bella_?"

She feels his head lolling against her neck. He's floating in his own drunken stupor.

He doesn't wait for her to respond. "Because, _Bella _symbolizes the beauty next to me. The first moment I saw you... I felt my heart stop. Beautiful, so beautiful... and then I spent more time with you. Beautiful. Inside and out. _Bella, Bella_."

She closes her eyes as she feels her mascara running. She sobs. She weeps. She cries tears that glisten like diamonds and weigh like plastic. She cries transparent crystals with sharp edges that hurt when they slide down her face. She feels her chest tightening as she sobs. Edward is still lost in his own world.

"I love you," she whispers. "I love you, Edward."

"That sounds nice," he says. Her love is slowly waking him up. "Say it again, will you?"

"I love you, Edward." It's a tearful cry, a plea, a sob. She wants him to hear it and know it. She wants him to remember it. Engrave it into his memory. Think of it every time he sees her. She wants him to feel it, like a pounding heartbeat. She wants him to know that every time she blushes and smiles, it's because of him.

"I love you," Bella says. "I forgive you, Edward. Of course, I forgive you. But I was hurt. I'm young and stupid and you were the first boy I truly connected with."

"I love you more than anything," he says. He doesn't say it with firmness. He says it like a gentle prayer.

Like a hope. A wish.

A mantra, song and hymn.

He's filled with quiet apologies and she's made up of loud sobs. They stay like that on the floor, not knowing who is helping who anymore. They're healing each other. All he wants is her. All she knows is that he's perfect for her.

She slowly stands up, allowing him to lean against the side of the bed again. She walks into her room, brushes her teeth and takes off her dress. She slips into something more comfortable. She wipes off her running mascara and ruby redness. She takes off her false lashes and erases her false appearance.

She's real when she's with him.

She grabs a glass of water and sets it on the bedside table on his side. She slowly takes off his tie, ignoring his slurred mumbling. She's about to unbutton his shirt, knowing that it'll be much more comfortable to sleep in something softer, when his protests get louder. He doesn't want her to take off his shirt. It makes her furrow her brows in confusion.

"No," he argues with scared urgency. "Leave it on... please don't take it off."

She puts her hands up in surrender and gently takes his pants off. He allows her to do just that.

She switches off the lights and slides under the blankets with him. He's lying on his back. She kisses him, whispering words of endearment. She turns onto her side as the room is drowned in darkness. The background humming of distant voices and classical music can be heard. It's soothing. She feels him turning onto his side to wrap his arms around her.

He continues to mumble. She touches his forearm and presses herself against him, showing him all that he needs. She feels tears slipping down her face as she feels his warmth behind her. He had become a forgotten soul for too long. He holds her just like how she's held him. Wrapped together like one, night catches them with little effort and lulls them to sleep.

He murmurs how much he loves her.

She murmurs the password to her heart.

* * *

**So, thoughts? As always, thank you for reading. If I can simply touch one person, it's enough for me. (I'm so cheesy)  
**

**Untrue to my words in the last chapter, I ended up writing _Opprobrium _which is another story. And it's dramatic, but who would have guessed, right? Melodrama to the max for everything... because my real life is terribly mundane.**

**Love, perpetually.**


	30. Teardrop

**Metamorphosis**

* * *

_The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool. _

_― William Shakespeare_

* * *

**29. Teardrop**

He's holding something warm. Edward smiles. He's still dreaming. He's holding _her _in his dream. She's not running off with her Prince Charming. She's in his arms, safe and sound. He caresses the princess in his arms. He buries his nose into her locks. He loves her; he just wishes he wasn't the poor, peasant boy. The boy with no future and no talent. The boy who had messed up his only chance with the beautiful, kind princess. The boy who's too late. Too flawed.

He presses kisses to the back of her head. He wants to show her- day and night- how much he adores her. How much he will treasure her. How he'll never take her for granted. She doesn't deserve that. He wants to show her his willingness to communicate. To cherish what they have. He wants to teach and to learn. To experience and to feel. He wants it all with her.

"She'll never love me," he mutters. "Perfect she is, faulted I am."

_I almost sound like a poet who knows what he's saying_, Edward thinks.

But then she moves around in his arms and a sudden desperation to hold on leaps through his mind.

"You're beautiful," she whispers. He smiles at the truth of such a lie. Nevertheless, peace settles back into his chest. This dream is good. It's so sweet and marvelous. He never wants to leave this happy corner of his unconsciousness. He embraces her tighter.

"I love you," he whispers.

"I love you too, so much," she says. His heart feels like it's opening up, cracking open with hot, melting lava. It's pouring out like a volcano. He sees excitement and passion. He feels a strange surge of confidence filling all the molecules in his body.

She's changing the very essence of him.

She's altering his core.

She's making the bad become the good.

She's made him gooey on the inside, helplessly bursting with happiness and color.

"How is it possible to want someone so bad," he murmurs to himself. His eyes are still closed. His stubbornness is allowing him to stay in his dream world.

She gives a little giggle, holding onto his hand and pressing her soft lips to his skin. She kisses his fingers before flipping his hand over to pay attention to his palm. He feels blessed. Like he's touching an angel.

An angel's lips are caressing his rough edges.

How undeserving.

"Don't leave me," he says. His broken voice comes to life. He's nervous; he doesn't want to lose her again. He needs her.

She's his medicine, his heroin.

His addiction and his remedy.

"I love you," she whispers. "I won't leave you."

He can hear the tears coming. Her throat is clamping up as the tears threaten to spill.

"Don't cry, baby," he says. "Least of all, don't cry for me."

The angel in his arms doesn't say anything. _She's finally gone_, he thinks to himself, _I feel the warmth but her presence is gone; I need to wake up now_.

Bella turns in his arms until she's facing him. She kisses his closed eyelids and the bridge of his nose. She kisses the tip of his nose as well. She kisses the stubble on his chin. She kisses his cheekbones and his temples. She touches his neck and his shoulders, holding herself to him. Wishing for him to understand that this is reality and she's with him now.

Meanwhile, in Edward's head, he's simply stunned that the angel in his arms is kissing him. Placing butterfly kisses all over his face. Her angelic presence is enough. But for her to shower him with adoration is certainly too much. A tear slips out from the inner corner of his eye.

He doesn't say anything for an extended period of time. Bella closes her eyes as she finds the comforting pace of his breathing making her sleepy again. It's a lullaby that pulls at the strings of her heart.

"Open your eyes," she says. She wants to see vivid green. The reminder of fresh grass and rustling leaves from Forks. She wants to see the eyes of a man she'd shared an electric stare with, once upon a time.

"But if I open my eyes, you'll be gone," he comments. "I'd rather be blind than to never see or feel you again."

She wants to cry at that very moment. But she's run out of resources. Her eyes are dry; her tear ducts are empty. She's shed so many teardrops that there's no more left to share with the world.

"I promise you, I won't be gone," she whispers back. "I promise."

Bravely, he opens his eyes, staring at her. The morning sunlight behind her makes her seem incandescent. She has a halo. She's heavenly. He's surprised that she hasn't evaporated yet, like smoke from a chimney.

"Bella," he whispers in awe. "You're here."

She kisses the tip of his nose again, before she presses her cheek to his. "I'm here."

He holds her so tight that she feels her breaths coming out shallower. He holds her with every muscle in his body. He doesn't want to let her go. Not now, not ever. He made that mistake once and wishes to never repeat it. She tilts her head and kisses his tense shoulder, introducing ease to his body.

"I love you," he says. He wants to say it a hundred times. He wants to shout it to the world. He wants to whisper it into her ears and mouth as they wrinkle the bed sheets. He wants to do so many things to her, with her... if she'll have him.

"I love you," she says back.

"I'll never let you go," Edward whispers. "You have my heart. Keep it safe for me."

She sniffles. His sweet words have triggered her own feelings to become so overwhelmingly powerful that she's unable to speak. Her words are caught mid-air, in-between her vocal chords.

"Always," she whispers.

Tears turn into smiles and smiles turn into kisses. Their caresses transform into sensual touches and touches turn into moans.

They guard each other's hearts like an imperial treasure.

They are the black and white teardrop shapes that complete a circle.

* * *

**Been a little busy. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, even though it was mainly from a groggy Edward.**

**Love, perpetually. **


	31. Purity

**Metamorphosis**

* * *

_It's not true that I had nothing on. I had the radio on. _

_― Marilyn Monroe_

* * *

**30. Purity**

"Where are they?" Bella asks Camille as she sees the servants cleaning up the mess from last night's party.

"Your parents left soon after sunrise. It's strange how both of them could have woken up so early," Camille says. "The party didn't end till two in the morning."

Bella stares at the ticking, grandfather clock. It's currently half past eleven. She's thinking of having brunch, in bed, with Edward. After letting Edward take a shower, Bella had walked downstairs. The mess hadn't been too extraordinary, seeing how it wasn't a house party, but more of a gathering for posh people.

Camille senses what Bella's thinking. "Breakfast in bed?"

"Yes please, even though I've basically showered and taken a stroll already. I still want to just enjoy it in bed," Bella says. She blushes as she realizes she could have been referring to something else entirely with what she wants to do in bed.

"I'll help you make the food," Bella offers, walking into the kitchen.

"Bella, it's okay, that's not needed," Camille says gently. She loves how Bella's always keen to help around the house but if Renee catches her daughter doing any of the chores that are meant for the servants, she'll be yelling at every breathing person, all day long.

Bella pulls her hand away from kitchen counter. She leaves Camille to it as she walks back upstairs.

Edward's sitting on his bed again, his hair slightly wet and his cheeks rather pink from showering. She finds him incredibly attractive like that.

He's changed out of the shirt from last night and into a more comfortably looking blue, plaid top. He smiles when he sees her walk in, immediately standing up and walking to her. He douses her in kisses. From her eyebrows to her earlobes.

"Ouah!" Camille says, interrupting the heated kisses. "D'accord... I'll just put your breakfast here."

She situates the tray on the dressing table in the guestroom before excusing herself and waving her hands for them to carry on as if her presence meant nothing. Bella giggles and looks shyly up at Edward.

"I love you," he whispers softly. She doesn't know how many times he's said that line but it delivers butterflies to her stomach each and every time. She kisses his lips, slowly and sensually, expressing the depth of her love for him with her touches.

"Be my girlfriend." It's a statement. Not a question. But the uncertainty is evident in Edward's eyes. She stares at him, mesmerized by how beautiful he looks.

"Of course," she answers. He kisses her intensely, pumping her with adrenaline, sending a mad rush of desire into her nether regions.

The door is shut and the curtains are barely opened. The room has a luminous glow to it. Like a castle in the clouds. They're floating on cloud nine.

He lifts her up gently in his arms and carries her to the bed, placing her down. He leans over her as she lies back down. He climbs onto the bed and presses himself on top of her. He feels her nipples touching him. He feels her legs touching him.

He feels the warmth of her desire.

He's careful not to crush her. She moans at his weight on top of her. He kisses her from jaw to forehead. From ear to ear. She tangles her hands in his hair and her arms around his neck. She arches her back; he lowers his neck.

Fingers roaming, lips sucking.

He nudges his head and skims his nose over her flesh and her skin. She glows. He peels her open like a birthday gift, unwrapping the layers and layers of excitement and anticipation.

He's hard. She feels it.

Edward gently kisses her breasts before he takes her soft nipple into his lips, humming as he drinks down her sweetness.

She's nectar and honey. Combined.

She's goodness and treasure. Together.

He flicks her pert bud quickly, then slowly. He does the same for the other nipple, gently biting on it until she screams so loud that she's no longer caring about who's able to hear her demonstrations of pleasure.

She loves the feeling of his tongue on her breasts. She tells him that. He smiles and decides to spend extra time on them. He leaves them much harder than they were to begin with. He kisses her tummy. Her belly button and her hips. He presses open-mouthed kisses over her navel.

But then his mouth stays open as he's found the _X_ on the pirate map.

She's gold and silver, entwined as one. Bella's scent hits his nostrils, making him moan. She's too good for him. But he's too selfish to let go. He dives into his prize, taking her gently, taking her impatiently. His tongue delves into her, searching and discovering. He's touching places that he thought he could only reach in the afterlife.

Heaven on earth, his sweet love in his arms.

She moans, pulling at his hair, pressing him eagerly to her core. She wants more. She can't get enough. His lips suck and his fingers fondle, traveling upwards to play with her nipples. He pinches them gently, getting satisfied moans from his one and only. As his two hands rest on her breasts, his mouth is occupied with her core. He's taking all that he can find. He won't waste a drop.

His tongue thrusts in and out, the wetness of his tongue mingling with the wetness in her folds. She screams as she comes undone, like rolling down a grassy hill. Unable to stop the momentum. She can only surrender to it as it pulls her into pure bliss. He gives her one last lick before he gets up and kisses her lips again.

It's exotic and it's love.

His hardness is still pressed into her. She wants to please him like what he's done for her. She touches him, running her fingers over what she can find. It's big, that's for sure. She smiles up at him, he can only stare back at her with heavy-lidded eyes. She takes it out, what she was looking for.

Bella kisses him. Kisses him down there. He shivers. Her lips wrap around him, just the very tip, as she sucks gently before she moves further along his member. She engulfs him, mind and body. He throws his head back. She draws out a deep, masculine groan with just the actions of her lips. He's kneeling on the bed, his back upright as he rests on his heels. His hands attempt to hold onto something as his mind goes crazy. She's resting on all fours, on the soft mattress as her mouth is the only thing connected to him. She's on palms and knees. Backside pressed against the headboard of the bed.

She moves up and down him, taking in as much as she can. It's enough- enough to make him quiver. Enough to make him feel like he's flying through a brightly-lit tunnel. Enough to make him feel like he's on an airplane runway, with nothing to lose, as sunset drapes around his soaring spirits. Her head continues to move; she's purring slightly. He feels the vibrations; it's sensational. She doesn't need to use her hands, but he uses his.

He touches her head; he touches her face. He feels her taking all of him in. He holds her head as he gently starts to thrust into her. He can't stop it. He wants more. So she gives him more. He reaches under her and touches her breasts that dangle in her position, stroking her skin and paying extra attention to her hardening nipples. He pulls at her rose buds. He rubs them.

She moans. He copies.

He plays with her body and she looks up at him. With their eyes connected, he finds himself releasing. Holding her breasts in his hand while she holds him in his mouth, they are connected as she witnesses him coming to life whilst in her. She drinks it up hungrily, staring at him while she does so. He can't look away, he can only pant, trying to will the stars around his vision to go away.

He wants to see her clearly, not the stars.

He doesn't need another night with the moon if he can only have her in his sight.

He pulls out, releasing himself from her mouth and pulling her body to his instead. They're both relaxed, curling up in a bubble of perfect satiation. He kisses her as he tells her the way she makes him feel. She kisses him back, stating the same.

As their eyelids grow heavy, they succumb to the purity of euphoria.

* * *

**Yum yum yum.**

**This story has been nominated for the Undiscovered Gem award at TwiFic Fandom Awards. You can vote for Round 2, if you feel like it. Have a nice one.**

**Love, perpetually.**


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